Winter Comes to Berk
by DOShae
Summary: The Guardian Jack Frost finds himself transported to the world of Berk. Alone and with few options, he strikes up an unlikely friendship with the young chieftain of the Hairy Hooligans, Hiccup. Through the trials each endures, they learn they have more in common than they thought, and it leads to more than either could have hoped. Edited and revised August 2016.
1. Chapter 1

**Winter Comes to Berk**

by D O'Shae

 **Foreword**

A little over a year ago this story got posted (July 2015). It needed a good edit at the time, but the desire to work on other projects and stories forced the posting. Of late some free time came up, so – voila! – editing became possible. Mostly the story needed to be scrutinized for typos, missing words, extraneous words, or garbled sentences. Also, some complaints the story got posted in one long, flat file needed to be addressed. Distance in terms of time from a story also allows the author to examine the story without any personal attachment (or a much reduced one), and it makes editing easier.

Thus, Winter Comes to Berk underwent a fine tuning. The story received a structural change: namely, it got broken into chapters. Hopefully most, if not all, the typos got eliminated. Poorly constructed sentences and those that did not convey the correct meaning got revised. Missing words got added and extra words deleted. On the whole the story remained unchanged. The only exception is small chunk that got inserted into the last chapter to add some clarifying context.

As the author and after being away from the story for a good while, I found it rather fun to read as I worked through the edit. I hope the audience, both old and new, find it equally as enjoyable and now easier to read.

Thanks to all who took time to leave a comment or send a private message. Most appreciated.

\- DOS, August 2016

 ** _Time frame is roughly one year after Stoick's death. This tale assumes complete familiarity with How to Train Your Dragon I and II, along with Rise of the Guardians. Some liberties are taken._**

 **Chapter One**

"I don't know, bud," Hiccup said after landing Toothless on an island even he only guessed where it lay on the map. "Think we backtracked enough to throw them off?"

Toothless gave Hiccup a half-grin and waggled his head. If anyone or anything knew how to get them lost, then Toothless held the title as reigning king. Except the dragon never acted or seemed lost. Hiccup scratched the beast under the chin, the tough but supple scales depressing slightly in the act. Toothless sighed in pleasure. For a moment, Hiccup envied the dragon could be so content with such a simple act. Then the young man turned and faced the gray horizon where the line between the land and ocean became invisible to the naked eye. Below the waves crashed against the rock of the small, unnamed island. Underfoot tough moss clung to the rock and acted as the only padding.

"She gets so… touchy, I guess, all the time now. I mean, it was fine when it didn't seem like it meant too much, we were best friends, but now," and Hiccup whistled to underscore his point.

He fixed his green eyes on the midnight-colored dragon who flopped over onto his back and rubbed his spine and wings on the hardy lichen. Toothless mumbled in quiet pleasure. Hiccup stared at what could only be called his best and closest friend. Despite the fact they came from two separate species, it seemed they understood one another better than any two humans ever could. Hiccup sighed because he knew he found the central problem of his young life.

"Why can't one person just… understand me like you do?" He complained to his reptilian companion.

Toothless sat up onto his haunches and stared at the human. The yellow-green eyes with the rectangular irises looked at Hiccup with undiluted affection. The blocky, square head turned slightly at an angle.

"I know: tough question. But I never have to explain anything to you, even though I do… all the time, but it's not like you demand it. You just listen most of the time."

The dragon warbled at him.

"Ever since Dad died and that whole fight with Bludvist and Mom coming back and Gothi making me the chief… everyone just expects so much from me," Hiccup stated his list of irritations. "And Astrid already acts like she's the chief's wife… and I haven't… don't…"

Hiccup trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. He knew what Astrid wanted, but since the death of his father everything he thought he knew about himself once again came into question. The demands of being chief forced him to reconsider himself in light of the expectations. Despite rising admirably to the task in his own way, Hiccup continued to remain doubtful about being chief. Days and days spent planning for the entire community meant he could not take to the skies as much or as often as he wanted. Sometimes Toothless became impatient. In the last three months, Hiccup began to demand the right to go off on a flight at least once a week. His people balked when he further demanded the right to do so alone. However, no other dragon could keep pace with Toothless. His mother, ever thoughtful, questioned him on the need.

"You know it scares them when you go off like that and no one knows where you are?" She quietly asked him one night two months prior. "Their sense of safety rests in you and your dragon."

"I know, Mom," Hiccup replied and sighed while looking over a list of needs the people presented him. "But Toothless is a dragon and I am his rider. He needs to get out and fly sometimes."

"Perhaps it's time you let another ride Toothless on the days when you can't," suggested his mother.

Both Hiccup and Toothless instantly snapped their heads up to look at her with complete shock. Memories of Drago riding Toothless still burned in Hiccup's mind, and the idea of anyone else sitting astride the night fury became repellant. Even the dragon appeared to oppose the notion. Since neither would consider it, they forced Berk to accept that sometimes their chief would head out alone. To allay the fears of the people, Hiccup always appointed a second to keep his place. More often than not he chose Astrid. She balked at the idea almost as fiercely as Hiccup rejected the notion of another riding Toothless.

"Why me?" She complained in private the first time he selected her. "Did you ever think maybe I want to go with you?"

"Yes, and part of what I want to do is spend time with Toothless! I spend a lot time with you almost every day!" He countered.

"Are you saying you don't want to spend time with me?" Astrid growled the question, and anger sparked in her eyes.

They sat across from each other at the dining table in longhouse built (often rebuilt) and owned by his family since any could remember. Astrid reliably wore her blue-gray, short-sleeved, wool sweater with the small iron pauldrons attached at the shoulders, beneath which her leather battle skirt hung. She appeared every inch a warrior woman. While Hiccup of late enjoyed watching male warriors practice their craft, it did very little for him in the way of Astrid. At the moment, he worried she would use her fighting instincts to wrestle the truth out of him.

"You're taking this all wrong," Hiccup said and sighed. "Look, all my days are planned. Every moment is filled from the time I wake up to the time I lay down. It seems like all I have any more are the worries about the clan. Sometimes I need time and space to myself… and for Toothless who gets ignored way too much. I don't see you ignoring Stormfly the same way!"

Some might say he used a cheap shot in the argument, but it worked. Only another dragon rider could understand the compelling desire and need to spend time with the creature. Astrid glared at him. Since the day Gothi made him chief, the relationship between him and Astrid started to change. Feelings and thoughts Hiccup thought long buried began to resurface. The death of his father seemed to clear a path in his mind to consider what he actually wanted out of his life. When he grew discomfited by the presence of Astrid, Hiccup channeled his emotions into a desire to fly.

"They just don't get it," Hiccup said while stowing the recent memories away and glancing out over the choppy waters of the ocean.

Toothless waddled up next to him and butted his shoulder with his ebony head. In a well-practiced motion not needing direct thought, Hiccup began to scratch the dragon in all the right spots. Toothless half-melted against him.

"Something's wrong with me, Toothless," Hiccup whispered to his currently deliriously happy dragon. "I see Astrid, but… what am I supposed to feel? I mean, look, half the time when I see someone like Eret or Gottfried… I just feel different. I get them. They don't confuse me. They sort of… you know, make me feel warm inside."

Toothless did not appear to be paying attention so long as Hiccup continued to scratch his hide. The winged beast gurgled and warbled with satisfaction. Hearing the contentment of the dragon tended to calm the young man. Hiccup continued to scan the sea and sky as though an answer lay hid amid the clouds or waves. He sighed.

Berk lay in the middle of a chain of islands stretching out for hundreds, if not thousands, of miles. The chain bowed against the northern pole of the world. Winters tended to be fierce and hard. Summers did not vary much except for the warmer temperatures and the discernible lack of snow. Up until seven years before, the main problem facing Berk tended to be dragons. Hiccup, however, turned that situation around. Once the dragon menace ended and they became part of the Viking life, the only troubles facing Berk centered on marauding bands of other Vikings that wanted to take advantage of the peace and newly discovered prosperity. Hiccup's father, Stoick, guided them through those first tumultuous years after discovering the friendly nature of dragons. After his death at the hands of Drago Bludvist, the task fell to Hiccup. Hiccup longed for the days when he only had Toothless to worry about. Now his worries included all of Berk.

Hiccup sat down to gaze at the sea and wonder over his predicament. Since hairs first started growing on his chin, he knew he differed from his friends. At first he thought it simply his empathic relationship with dragons. However, time spent around Snotlout and Tuffnut showed him another side of himself. He felt more at ease and relaxed around them. Then he began to notice his reaction to others did not quite follow the same path one would normally expect, especially when it came to Astrid. Hiccup avoided dealing with his confusing feelings and thoughts by channeling it into the care and training of Toothless. However, it gnawed and nibbled at the periphery of his consciousness at all times. Before the battle with Bludvist, Hiccup sometimes found himself staring airily at Gottfried or Sledgehead. The simple sight of them made him physically react.

"What is wrong with me?" He called aloud to the chill late summer wind.

"Nothing," he thought he heard the wind reply.

Hiccup knew he did not imagine it because both he and Toothless sat bolt upright and started looking around. The young man stood up and cautiously surveyed his surroundings. The flat top of the deserted island offered no hiding places. The rocks did not provide cover except for the smallest of birds or insects. Hiccup reached out to touch the reassuring presence of the dragon.

"You heard that, too, right, bud?" Hiccup asked.

Toothless let out with low, soft growl. Taking that as a cue, Hiccup buckled his jacket, snagged his helmet from a hook on the saddle, and mounted his flying companion. He then strapped himself in. All the while he continued to glance around searching for the source of the single word. No one else occupied the island. It unnerved Hiccup, and he directed the dragon to jump off the cliff. Toothless allowed them to drop three-quarters of the way before spreading his wings and taking flight. He arched his neck and the two shot skyward into the clouds at an incredible speed.

"Wow," the voice said.

With no living person around to cause the natural reaction, a body slowly resolved into view. A young man who looked perhaps a year or two younger than Hiccup appeared and stared overhead where the duo disappeared into the sky. His scanned the heavens with ice-blue eyes set into a rectangular face with pale skin. Moreover, his shaggy white hair waved in the breeze for which he could not be held responsible. He carried a staff in his left hand, a crook really. His pale fingers wiggled against the cool wood. Dressed in a blue hooded shirt dappled with frost along the shoulders and arms, one he got from a place very far away, seemed at odds with his calf-length brown leather breeches. Had any saw him, his striking appearance became more so since he stood barefoot on the cold surface of the island. The peculiarity grew as the young man did not appear to even notice the chill air on his feet or the exposed skin of his legs.

"Who was that?" He asked out loud.

Jack Frost did not receive an answer. It simply added to the myriad of questions in his mind. Weeks before he found himself in a battle with a creature called by others a blue troll. The troll, magical like Jack, stole silently around children and absorbed all their happy thoughts, leaving them with a deep, lingering sense of depression. Jack, as a Guardian, went after the trolls to protect the children. Since becoming a Guardian many years before, and principally as the elemental Spirit of Fun, Jack seriously took to his responsibilities for the first time in his long existence. Thus, the battle with the blue troll registered high on his to-do list. It came with a price.

Blue tolls could snap in and out of places using a strange dark vortex created by magic. None of the other Guardians understood how it worked, and the Man in the Moon never explained it. Santa Claus thought it similar to his orbs, but he never discovered a way to control the vortices. Bunny argued the same logic regarding his tunnels. During Jack's fight with a particularly malignant and stubborn blue troll, it tried to escape using a vortex. Jack grabbed onto the foot of the creature and got dragged along for the ride. Midway through, he lost his grip. Jack tumbled in the darkness for what seemed like ages, unable to direct his flight in the formless void. Finally, in pure desperation, he simultaneously used his power of flight and control of cold and wind to find a direction. It caused a rip in the vortex and he fell through.

Unlike all other times, Jack did fall. He fell downward until he landed on an upthrust of rock in a seemingly endless sea. Only the barest of luck allowed him to hang onto to his staff. Without it, he could not begin to imagine how helpless and hopeless he would feel. However, when Jack tried to control the wind, it resisted his powers. Cold and frost, too, did not want to obey. It took him numerous days to gain any semblance of his command over the elements, and it turned out to be a tenuous command at best. Flight, fortunately, still came to him. It did not actually depend on elemental forces. Thus, Jack began to fly in a slow spiral at a great height over the sea. Little by little he discovered the area around where he landed. It looked like nothing he ever recalled.

"Where am I?" He begged the winds that would not listen to him.

Jack lost count of the days before he first saw a ship on the wide ocean navigating between the staggering number of small, vacant islands. He swooped down to spy on sailors and to hopefully glean some information as to his whereabouts. To his dismay, Jack found he did not really understand their language. It many ways it sounded like Dutch or German to him, with a touch of old Pictish thrown in, but he could not fathom the words. The lingering apprehension in his stomach began to turn to fear. It only took a short while before Jack began to detest his reaction.

"I'm Jack Frost! I've faced worse!" He shouted to the undulating seas and the rocking ship. None of the people on board gave any indication they heard him.

An idea formed in his head, and one borne from his past. Jack spent his time finding ships with children aboard. Thus, his magical ability to interact with and understand children came into play. By staying close to ships, often long vessels with a shallow draft and wide spar propelled by large square sail hoisted on a mainmast in the middle of the craft, and hovering near the children, some of his innate magical abilities began to function. Over the course of several days the language of the children began to make sense to him. He learned much even if he did not understand all the nautical terms. Jack also discovered he could not be seen since this place did not appear to believe in him. Once again he found himself invisible and unable to truly affect anything.

The obvious took shape after coasting along with several ships for days on end, and he said to himself: "This isn't home, and… I don't know where I am!"

The staff became even more important to Jack as it served as the only link to the world he understood. One other discovery came upon him: talking to himself lost its allure since he became a Guardian. He enjoyed the interplay with the other Guardians and, especially, the children he constantly urged to get outside and have fun. In many respects, it appeared to Jack he arrived back at square one just like when he first became an immortal, elemental being. A sense of dread came over him when he failed repeatedly at directly interacting with children. To keep from falling into a complete depression, Jack focused on learning as much about these people as he could. He was nothing if not determined.

The true benefit of flying around and following ships came in what he learned besides the languages. Without a doubt Jack landed very far from home: in fact, he landed on another world. Magic could be tricky, and it told him the blue trolls possessed greater power than the Guardians suspected. However, it also seemed as though they used it by instinct instead of by insight. If that turned out to be the case, then the implications became less terrifying. On a more positive note, Jack found out some of the tribes of people who, in an ironic twist requiring further thought, called themselves Vikings and managed to tame the dragons Jack saw from time to time. He recalled the first person he saw and the way he interacted with the dragon. The beasts made him uneasy, but knowing they could live compatibly with people brought reassurance.

"Papa says we'd have to go to Berk to see it, and he doesn't want to go there," a young girl told her even younger brother. At some point she made a dragon doll constructed from scraps of cloth and currently made it fly through the air by throwing it around.

Jack sat in a corner with his crook across his lap interacting with the children as best he could by blowing small cold drafts at them, and watched their surprise. The temperature in the room nestled in the hold made it impossible for him to draw frost ferns for their delight. Hence, he accepted his role as an observer.

"Dagon!" The boy who appeared no older than two years incorrectly pronounced the word and chased after the makeshift replica.

"Dragon," his sister corrected him. "You shouldn't like a skullcrusher anyway."

"Kullkush," the boy giggled and rolled on the floor of the family quarters located in the cramped stern of the hull.

"Kullkush," Jack repeated into the boy's ear and blew a ticklish air across the child's neck.

He left the two with the boy laughing gleefully at being tickled. For a brief moment, Jack thought the child looked directly at him. A tingle went through his body as he sailed through side of the craft and into the air. Conflicting thoughts went through his mind while he soared overhead high into the sky as he held his staff at his side. Before he realized it, Jack found himself at an incredible altitude and in the midst of a squad of dragons. The silvery scales twinkled in the sunlight and the long horns adorning the heads and down the backs gleamed as well. These dragons tended to be shorter than most Jack spied from time to time, but they soared an almost unparalleled distance from the ground. Even without the cloud cover below, he realized no one would see these creatures. Jack flew down toward the surface of the world.

Shortly after listening to and learning from those children Jack encountered the lone dragon rider. Since that day a lingering curiosity over the identity of the young man stayed with him. The snippets of self-talk Jack heard made him wonder as to what the stranger faced that would drive him to such a deserted and lonely island. The destination, the Spirit of Fun decided, reflected something inside the dragon rider. The lanky man spoke of a dead father and people who did not understand him. Jack understood that. During both his mortal and immortal life he rarely met those who fully appreciated what he offered in life. Only the Man in the Moon saw value in him and, in doing so, made the other Guardians see it as well. Thus, Jack wanted to find the young man and see what his life truly contained. His search took on a broader meaning.

A score of days went by until Jack finally created a mental map of the island chains. He learned the locations of all the main islands inhabited by people, although some places he never wished to visit again. Still others seemed homey with agreeable folk who went about scratching out a living in the hard, unforgiving lands and seas in which they resided. Eventually, he found the island called Berk. Tales and legends turned into fact. Regardless of the many exaggerations he heard, Jack discovered most of the stories to be true. Berk stood out from the rest. Thus, he contented himself with hanging about and learning what he could from these people who tamed dragons and added the sky as their domain.

A few of the residents sparked Jack's immediate interest, especially the ones who rode dragons. Some days he would sit perched on the top of his crook in a corner between buildings watching the activity. Slowly but surely he discovered names to go with the faces. He found the young man he saw on the island: the rider of the nimble, lighting-quick black dragon. Not only did Jack's subject ride a dragon, but he also served as the chieftain of the village. This intrigued him since the one called Hiccup seemed uneasy with the mantle of authority. He understood the young man's discomfort in having such power and responsibility deposited in his hands.

"No," Hiccup declared while seizing a hammer and walking to an anvil with a hot, glowing piece of steel held in a pair of tongs. "I will not just sit in the longhouse and listen to everyone complain. It's like they can't even figure out the simplest things for themselves!"

Jack sailed around Hiccup who bitterly vented to the large and stout, blond-haired, long-mustached man who also wore a polished piece of metal for a tooth. Dressed in a mix of rough clothes and fur, adorned with a horned steel helmet, the older of the two appeared every bit a Viking that Hiccup did not. The man rolled his eyes and fiddled with an apparatus where his left hand should be. He then scratched his buttocks.

"It's not like ye have a choice, Hiccup. Ye're the chief and that's what chiefs do. Do ye know how many hours yer father spent sorting out sheep for people?"

"Yes, Gobber, I do, and now I know why he was so grumpy all the time. Is there something wrong with us?" The much younger man inquired while hammering the metal on the anvil and sending sparks sailing around him.

A large, lumpy dragon – similar to the species rode by one of Hiccup's close friends name Fishlegs – lay on the floor snoring. Small wisps of smoke issued from the nostrils. It seemed so completely content and unconcerned that moving in the workshop became difficult.

"Well, good question that, lad, but I don't have an answer for ye," the man called Gobber replied and leaned against the dragon as he would a wall. "Might be we got our noodles cooked one too many times while fighting dragons back in the day."

Hiccup shook his head in either disbelief or dismay and said: "The basket clearly belonged to Mangletooth 'cause she wove her design into it, but Sticky still wanted to claim it as hers. It took over an hour to settle the argument!"

"What'd ye do, Hiccup?"

"I told them to use it on alternating days and I actually had to create the schedule for them," Hiccup darkly explained as he shook head again with seeming disdain.

Jack watched the russet locks swirl around the young man's head. A few small braids twisted into his hair refused to move. Hiccup stood lanky and lean dressed in his leather riding attire he seemed to wear all the time. Unlike most of the people in Berk who tended toward stoutness, Hiccup's leanness stood out. Moreover, he clearly possessed a much different character than his clan members. Jack floated up to a rafter and settled on it to follow the conversation. He hooked his staff on his shoulder and it hung down, invisibly, above the heads of the two Vikings.

"See, right there is what I'm trying to tell ye. That is what a chief does: he settles the disputes so everyone is happy…"

"Neither of them were happy, Gobber!"

"Then at least they're equally unhappy. Same thing and just as good," Gobber weirdly complimented Hiccup.

"You're just as impossible as them," Hiccup quipped.

Gobber pushed himself into a standing position, and the dragon neither budged nor woke, and walked over to the young chief. He placed his remaining thick, powerful hand on the slender shoulder of Hiccup. Hiccup barely winced when the man gave it squeeze.

"It's that big brain of yers, Hiccup, what everyone looks to," the man comfortingly told him. "Look what we've become… how much better it all is, lad. Ye led us to this life, and now ye've got to show us how to live it."

Jack nodded at the simple wisdom of the words. He discovered over the time spent there that Gobber served as an adviser and mentor to Hiccup in the absence of Hiccup's father. Jack's attention broke for a moment when several small dragons of varying colors but clearly the same species fluttered in and perched next to him. Not one sat in his incorporeal form. Two looked at him, and Jack thought they could see him. He stared in wonder.

"I never signed up to give life lessons, Gobber. I thought being chief was all about organizing and getting people to do what needs to be done so they don't die in the middle of winter… which I hardly need to remind you is going to be here soon," Hiccup argued and swung the hammer several times to beat out some of his frustration.

The room echoed with loud clangs. One of the dragons sitting next to Hiccup fluttered its wings in half-fright. Jack heard them called terrible terrors, yet everyone seemed fond of the dragons even if they did get into mischief. One of the elders, an ancient woman named Gothi, seemed to collect the miniscule dragons. Jack bent down near the startled creature.

"You're okay. He's just making noise," Jack whispered.

The dragon warbled and calmed. Jack now knew the dragons could somehow sense and hear him despite his lack of solid form and current state of invisibility. It brought him a bit of comfort and made him feel more real.

"… expect a chief to do?" Gobber finished a question, half of which Jack missed.

"That's not leading: it's babysitting!" Hiccup all but yelled and struck a fierce blow on the anvil.

The terrible terrors took flight, squawking in alarm, and shot out of the workshop.

Older and younger man stood regarding one another. The dragon laying on the floor cracked open an eye. It surveyed the scene, and then closed it. Jack floated down from rafters and stood behind the young chief, leaning against his crook.

"We all have duties we don't always like, Hiccup," the Guardian said hoping in some way his words might sooth him.

Hiccup swung his head around and stared. He rubbed the back his neck. For a brief moment Jack thought Hiccup saw him, but the Viking's eyes shifted around.

"Look, winter is coming, I can feel it," Hiccup said, rubbing his neck again, and returned his glance to his mortal friend. "The people of Berk have got to learn to think for themselves and stop wasting my time with these… these… ridiculous and petty squabbles."

"Whoa, there, laddie. Ye forget yer time is their time. The chief don't own his day any more than one dragon owns the land, sea, or sky. Ye might get to barrow an hour or two for yerself, but ye don't get to keep them all," Gobber replied and did not sound conciliatory.

"This isn't fair!"

"It's the way it is!"

Hiccup stood mute for a moment. A dangerous glint appeared in his emerald-green eyes. Then he dropped the hammer, the piece upon which he worked, and stormed out of the workshop. He barely got three feet from the door when several of the villagers rushed up to him. However, one look at his face sent them scurrying back. After he cleared workshop, the chief glanced at the sky.

"Toothless!" Hiccup called while continuing to stroll forward.

The dragon did not appear, and the dragon rider appeared even more vexed. Hiccup stomped through the village toward his house. The people looked on knowing their leader to be in a foul mood and gave him space.

Jack, in the meantime, floated behind the young clan chief. Since arriving on Berk and getting to know the locals to some degree, he viewed Hiccup as fascinating for a myriad of reasons. He found it hard to believe someone so young could rise to such a prominent position. However, Jack saw Hiccup rise to the challenge nearly every time. The young man possessed a wisdom beyond his score of years and tended to be a good leader both with the villagers and the other dragon riders. At the same time, the Spirit of Fun understood the extraordinary pressures the title placed on Hiccup.

He, Jack, also carried the weight of responsibility in his role as a Guardian. Even though he found himself cut off from his world, his instincts still insisted he carry out his duties in this strange land. When not following certain villagers around, Jack used his powers to invoke in the youngsters a sense of joy, a love of the ridiculous, and a sense of adventure. On evenings when the temperature dipped low enough, he painted faint ice fronds on few windows in the village. Even several of the older children, some being very old, received his attentions. At the moment he focused on their chief who seemed to need his gifts most of all.

Hiccup did not hear or see Jack as he stormed across the central square of Berk, past the dragon stadium pathway, toward the longhouse that served as the administrative headquarters along with being a nightly gathering place. Hiccup stomped past the longhouse toward his house sitting a short ways off and up the bank of northern protective hill. He grumbled to himself, disappointed Toothless did not show, but it did not surprise him. Since becoming chief, he spent most of his day seeing to the needs of the villagers. Thus, Toothless learned to occupy his time when Hiccup became unavailable. Mostly the night fury spent time bathing in the ocean, sunning on the beach sands, finding or hunting food, and engaging with other dragons. Both dragon and rider often suffered a lingering low-level depression at being separated.

"At least he gets to have fun," Hiccup grumbled to no one, although one did hear him. "Why did I ever agree to become chief?"

"Because that's who you are," Jack replied next to Hiccup's ear.

Hiccup's hand shot up to the side of his face and he stopped moving. A light chill ran across his cheek. He rubbed his ear against a perceived breeze, but noticed nothing else moved in the late autumn day. His senses prickled. Something odd took shape of late, and he repeatedly felt the strange instances of cool air. Seeing nothing amiss despite his wariness, Hiccup continued his march to the house. Jack hung back a few paces, stunned by Hiccup's reaction to his presence. In less than fifteen minutes the young chieftain appeared to twice notice the elemental's proximity. He found it both encouraging and unusual, and worth further contemplation once certain Hiccup reached safety.

"Mom!" Hiccup bellowed when he entered his house.

Quiet greeted him.

"MOM!" He yelled again just to prove her absence. He waited a second and replied to himself: "Probably off with Cloudjumper."

Hiccup routinely envied his mother. Her knowledge of dragons vastly outstripped everyone's, having lived with the beasts as a protector for twenty years. Valka, his mother, used her understanding to train other dragon riders, dragon medics, and the villagers who took on the creatures as companions if not pets. Few would call a dragon a pet. When not with dragons, Valka acted as an adviser and confidant to her son since she only reconnected with him as a young adult. Mothering Hiccup did not seem like a wise endeavor. Both son and mother respected one another for their varied talents and learned to work in harmony. Part of the harmony rested in knowing when to give the other space. Thus, Valka occupied herself at the dragon training grounds or the dragon cavern during most of the day. It relieved Hiccup to know he was alone, or so he thought.

Jack watched as Hiccup climbed the precarious set of stairs cut into a single thick log to room he built for himself and Toothless long ago. He situated his wide bed against one wall far from the stairs. A nest made of a thick slab of hardwood for Toothless rested against another wall. An ingenious portal Hiccup invented so Toothless could enter and leave as he pleased sat above the dragon nest. Across from the nest along the third wall could be found Hiccup's bureau and desk. Various drawings, notes, and sketches of ideas hung tacked above the drafting table. All of these Hiccup ignored as he walked slowly toward his bed. He pulled a small chain hanging against the wall next to the stairs. Five glass-enclosed sconces, each connected to the chain, situated higher up the walls sparked and light poured out from the new and growing flames in the clever gadgets. A warm, yellow glow flooded the room. Then, as he walked along, the chieftain began to shed his leather clothing and riding gear.

Jack floated to the desk where Hiccup's inventive genius found an outlet and sat invisibly on the surface without disturbing a single item. He drew his legs up and hugged them to his chest after leaning his staff against the table. Why it stood instead of falling through even Jack could not explain. Of late he enjoyed watching Hiccup free himself of the constrictive yet vital armor he wore. Bit by bit the lean, lanky frame revealed itself. Jack became utterly engrossed. Hiccup had to be the thinnest Viking around. This did not mean he lacked muscle. To the contrary, his body became very firm and toned from years of dragon wrangling. People often underestimated the strength he developed. His long, wiry limbs gave him leverage and reach. Yet Hiccup's skin fascinated Jack the most.

"Did I ever look anything like that?" Jack asked, thinking back to the far off days of his mortal being. He held out a hand and looked at the off-white flesh with a faint ruddiness tinged blue in places. As an elemental being of frost, he took on appearances befitting his role. Until he became a full-fledged Guardian, Jack often wondered at his own existence. The Man in the Moon seldom spoke and rarely, if ever, offered direct answers. Even the memories he got from his baby teeth did not answer all questions. Many mysteries of his former mortal life remained.

"Gods, is that itchy," Hiccup said with relief when he shucked off his pants, leaving himself clad in a close-fitting undergarment made of a thin fabric that ran from mid-thigh to just under his navel. He scratched himself in several private spots.

Jack snickered as he observed.

Hiccup flopped onto his bed, turning around mid-flop so he landed on his back. Jack, still hunched and hugging his legs, floated upward and outward until he came to rest on the small table next to Hiccup's bed. He wanted a closer look at the young dragon rider laying spread-eagle on his bed sighing in relief.

Hiccup's proved to be a true red-head since the hair under his arms, the thin trail starting at his navel and shooting southward, and the strands on his legs all reflected the same ruddy sheen. Because he spent so much time dressed in riding gear, only Hiccup's face and hands sported any form of tan, and that came mostly from windburn. The great majority of his flesh appeared a creamy, somewhat sallow color. It did not look sickly in the traditional sense. Rather, his skin tone appeared that way due to multitude of freckles covering his body, but concentrated on his shoulders, arms, and legs. The russet spots changed the overall hue of the pale skin.

Jack glanced at his hands, parts of his exposed legs and feet, and said: "Not a mark."

Somehow in the transformation to an elemental, Jack's skin became virtually flawless. He could not remember if freckles or moles ever dappled his flesh. He knew a scar from a cut he got as younger child disappeared when he emerged from the cold, frozen lake on the day he passed from mortal existence. In truth, Jack could not say for certain if his body possessed any reality other than what he thought it did. Only the belief in his existence by children gave him solid form when he chose to appear. On this world, one he heard others call Halla, he remained incorporeal.

Jack's private ruminations got disrupted when Hiccup propped himself on his elbows. The chieftain looked down the length of his body. His slowly shook his head back and forth.

"Pathetic," he mumbled. "Don't even have half the muscles Eret or Gottfried has… or even Snotlout. Just pathetic."

"I don't think so," Jack replied, certain he went unheard.

Hiccup's head twisted to the side in Jack's direction, and he asked in a wary voice: "Why do I keep hearing things?"

Jack lifted his face in amazement. The moment did not last. The young man on the bed resumed his inspection.

"You'd think with the amount of food I eat and all the work I do I'd have something to show for it," Hiccup complained to his body.

The Spirit of Fun could not see what the chieftain did. If anyone asked Jack, he would say Hiccup's body came close to a work of art. The long limbs, similar to his, showed ropey muscles under the skin, especially in the calves and thighs. The red-head's stomach displayed the outlines of abdominal muscles running down the length from the sternum to navel. Hiccup's pectorals, while not huge, rounded nicely with health and vitality. His arms did not have the bulk he saw on others, but the sinew appeared taut and well-toned. All in all, Jack thought, Hiccup enjoyed a handsome carriage.

"This is why no one notices me."

"I do."

Once again Hiccup swung his head to the right and stared over his shoulder toward the corner of his room. Jack, to test a theory, reached out his right arm and waved it around. It did not attract Hiccup's attention. However, Jack could not dismiss the reaction. He pondered what might be happening, but did not have long to do so. Once Hiccup seemed to be certain nothing else occupied the room, that which he could see, he returned to his bodily contemplations. Jack, had he any weight or physical reality at the moment, ran the risk of falling off the small table in shock.

Throughout the history of the dimensional plane where Earth resided, few humans went through transformation Jack experienced. The Man in the Moon, an intelligence even the Guardians barely comprehended or grasped, watched over the Earth. The lunar presence made selections as to whom or what would evolve into an elemental or immortal persona. Only the rarest of personalities went on to become a Guardian. As far as Jack knew, he was only the fifth to ever receive the honor. The honor, however, came at a price. Jack lost his mortal body and mortality. It happened when he just turned thirteen. In the three centuries since he mentality matured – a limited maturation since he embodied the Spirit of Fun – and he grew in power, and he aged in the beginning but that seemed to stop. By his estimation, he gained roughly four or five years of physical age based on comparisons to mortals across his world. However, he did not experience what other human teenagers did, and large gaps in his personal information existed.

Hiccup's current actions lay outside Jack's memory or full understanding. He intellectually knew what occurred, but he did not understand what it all meant. He recognized the young Viking chieftain long passed the cusp between childhood and adulthood, as he saw so many others do on his home world. One of the more telling signs came with how a person physically interacted with her- or himself. A different awareness about people came alive as puberty came into place. Needs for fun changed, or perhaps the type of fun changed. As such, the Guardian witnessed Hiccup having fun with himself. Nearly one-hundred percent of the time Jack went away when this activity started. However, Hiccup fascinated him because of their physical similarity. The elemental young man began to wonder about what he might have missed in his mortal youth. Hiccup provided an example.

Despite the immodesty and voyeuristic aspect, Jack stared with utter wonder as Hiccup brought himself physical pleasure. For the first time he could recall, Jack noticed a strange set of energies take shape in the area around Hiccup as the young man proceeded. Not only did the tension seem to build in the Viking, but it built in the very air. It became clear Hiccup resided somewhere else in his head. The more he applied his ministration, the further away he appeared to drift. Jack felt power of a kind he did not understand begin to crackle around him. It made him breathe heavier, his thoughts became distracted and disorganized, and sensation like a pleasant illness bubbled in his gut. The elemental young man never knew such powers existed. He watched as Hiccup's body strained and tensed against itself.

A movement off to the left of the room by the dresser caught immortal's attention. A figure coalesced out of the shadows. Hot orange eyes sprang to life from nowhere. The apparition seemed to bend down onto all fours. An inky, smoky body assembled itself, and for all intents and purposes it looked like a dragon of a strange configuration. It crawled toward Hiccup. It frightened Jack. An unusual power emanated from the beast while it sniffed the air during its slow progression to the now groaning and thrashing young man. Hiccup did not notice the beast being so caught up in his self-ministrations. Jack feared for him.

"Gods!" Hiccup grunted just as the creature got to his thigh and bit him from all appearances.

"NO!" Jack yelled, and plume a cold vapor jetted from his mouth.

"Ugh!" Hiccup answered, and a seeming violent physical reaction took place.

His whole body heaved and thrashed, and then went completely rigid. Four times the Viking shook as he reacted to his own touch. Hiccup knew the faces and forms that teased his senses as they flashed through his mind, and none of them he expected. He did not fail to note Astrid did not feature among them. The mental release nearly equaled the physical one. As the scene played itself out, Hiccup's body wiggled about with diminishing vigor and soon came to a rest. The young man breathed in heavy drafts. A fluid pooled on his chest and stomach.

"Muckers," Hiccup sighed and sounded pleased.

Jack did not know what to make of the situation. Suddenly he heard another sound both foreign and frightening. The misty beast that appeared to attack Hiccup started to chuckle in a deep, menacing manner. Jack glanced away from the human to the apparition. It looked at him. It studied him. It continued to snicker. The eyes glowed hotter than at the start. Then beast moved away from Hiccup and faced Jack squarely.

"Stranger," it growled, surprising Jack all the more.

Without warning it sprang into the air. The youngest Guardian lifted his arms, his crook, in an effort to defend himself. Only a half-laugh, half-roar met Jack while creature sailed through him. Jack let out a scream. A powerful sensation surged through his being, merging with his magic. White dots, and not snow, danced before Jack's eyes. His mind spun in a delirious and delicious dangerous circle. All of his senses focused exclusively on his groin as the scream issuing from his lips changed intent and tone. Moreover, the impact forced Jack through the wall. He tumbled into the air gripped in a stupor he never wanted to go away. His incorporeal form drifted upward into the air. Jack felt like the first snow cloud of a new winter as he briefly lost consciousness during his unplanned, uncontrolled flight. The impact from the beast propelled him away from the island and to a lofty height in more ways than one.

"What?" Hiccup said in a husky voice.

He sat up as a sound died ringing in his ears: a startled yell that came from nowhere.

"Crap," he grunted as a significant volume of fluid flowed down his stomach, into and down his groin, over his hips only to land on his bedspread where it instantly soaked in.

Despite the mess now confronting him, Hiccup felt much better. Personal time always relieved his tension, but it left a different one in its wake. The faces that came unbidden into his mind while he reached climax caused him concern. He expected to see Astrid or even Switchbroom, but images of Gottfried, Tuffnut, and Eret floated around his brain instead. Hiccup frowned and tried to downplay the significance. Then his mind focused on the large wet spot that required his attention in order to hide from his mother in case she decided to clean his room. Moreover, he did not want to sleep in it.

"And the last thing I need is Toothless sniffing around my bed like I hid a fish in the covers," he said in the empty room.

High above the world Jack slowly came to his senses. He reached such a height that strong winds push him along at a fantastic pace. Never before in either his mortal or immortal did he ever feel what the ghost dragon did to him. Part of his mind craved a repeat. It gnawed at him. A strange fear of the wild, unknown sensation gripped Jack. A dangerous aspect lurked in the all-consuming want it inspired.

"You're a Guardian, Jack. Deal with this!" He yelled at himself. "You've faced worse!"

Once he felt collected, he flew down below the cloud cover to get his bearings. Jack saw he drifted far and long. He could not see Berk on the horizon no matter which way he turned. Thus, a study of the islands in the hidden afternoon sun commenced. By the time the sun set and twilight covered the sea, Jack still did not know his location. Even though he did not need it, he decided to find an island with a comfortable looking thicket and lay down his head. The events of the day left him feeling oddly stretched out and thin. After more searching as darkness grew, Jack found a reasonable location. Then he settled himself under a bush with thick, succulent leaves. His crook, which he could not for the life of him figure out how he managed to retrain, acted as his only comfort. Jack curled around it and closed his eyes.

Some immortals slept. Santa Claus slept. The Easter Bunny slept. Jack could not decide if the Tooth Fairy slept. The Sandman gave him pause. As sleep incarnate, the Spirit of Dreams, Sandy appeared to sleep, but Jack remained uncertain. He, himself, did not require sleep and did so infrequently. Normally he did after extremely dangerous events simply to give his mind rest. He counted this as one of those occasions. As he let go of consciousness, remembrances of glowing orange eyes and a threatening laugh sent him into a disjointed slumber. Although he did not have words for it, the pale Guardian suspected a bit of the amorphous dragon lingered. Something awoke in Jack that never knew life when he walked as a newly emerged mortal teenager.

Despite his seeming eagerness to find Berk again, Jack Frost only went through the motions. He spent more time aloft trying to understand what actually occurred in Hiccup's private quarters. The image of the naked young man lost in bodily sensations gamboled in Jack's mind. It seemed to mingle with the remains of the nebulous mystery dragon. A desire unlike any he ever experienced took shape. Jack desperately wanted to see Hiccup perform those actions again. Moreover, something deep inside of him wanted to join in, but he did not think it possible in his incorporeal form. It became a giant puzzle in his mind that kept him from returning to Berk.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	2. Chapter 2

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Two**

by D. O'Shae

Some days later when Jack returned to what he thought of as his normal condition, he felt the wind and a subtle change in it. He knew it like he knew the feel of his staff. It called to his entire being. It signified one thing: Winter. Without thinking he raised a hand and dipped into the streams of cold air blowing around him. Jack's hand sparkled as his powers briefly came to life. With a few flicks of his fingers, small snowflakes came into existence. It brought him immense joy.

"STOP!" A voice the size of the sky thundered into Jack's ears and brain. "Who dares touch my demesne?"

The immensity of the voice rendered Jack unable to speak. The power it evoked made his own seem a child's plaything. Clouds formed around him, bound him, and held him in place. Then a face larger than the largest mountain Jack ever saw resolved itself before him. It came into being like a great storm. It took on many visages until it settled into a more or less human guise. Eyes blacker than the bottom of a thunderhead peered at Jack and pierced him. No one needed to tell him who he faced and the peril it brought.

"What art thou, stripling?" The voice asked, the anger receding a bit but the sound deafening and painful. "Who art thou that intrudes?"

"J-J-Jack… F-Frost," Jack squeaked his name.

"From whence dost thou come?"

"I…" and Jack halted. He could not come up with a logical explanation.

In the three seconds he paused, magical energies ripped through him. His mouth opened but no sound emerged. Jack felt as though he got dismantled one molecule at a time. The pain nearly made him black out. Just as soon as it began, it stopped. It boggled his mind that forever could last one second.

"Thou art an outsider, stranger to these skies. I knowest not thy kind, fledgling. Thy force comes not from this plane. Who art thou?"

Jack heard the threat in the voice. The being could annihilate him with barely a blink, and nothing Jack could call up would stop it. He knew this to be a primal entity.

"I am Jack Frost, sir, of Earth," he wheezed out the words. "I came through a magical portal I did not create. I'm lost, alone, and I don't know how to get back home."

The titanic face turned slightly to one side as if to take a different view of Jack. Whether one or a thousand miles separated them made no difference: the face dominated everything Jack could see. He did not need to be told his life hung in the balance. His head sagged.

"Thou fearest me, youngling?" It asked.

"Yes, sir, I do. I know what you are," he replied.

The magical cloud hand released him. The massive face disappeared without a sound. Suddenly a large man, twice as tall Jack, walked toward him on the air gaining resolution with each step. Jack held his position, knowing full well he could not escape this being no matter what he did. The giant of a man stopped several feet from where he floated, dressed in a fashion one could only imagine in a cloud. Once again Jack got the distinct feeling the entity carefully studied him.

"What does thou knowest of me?" It inquired in a voice closer to that of a normal human, but still louder than even Santa Claus.

"You are primordial, a fundamental creature of this world. You were made when it was made," Jack answered.

"Thou speaks rightly. The herald of my life is the first chill wind," the man-shaped immortal replied. "Canst thou utter my appellation?"

Jack stared at being in bewilderment.

After a few moments, the ethereal man leaned forward. The face, a mask of swirling clouds using light and shadow to define itself, studied the young immortal with greater scrutiny. It appeared puzzled.

"Why hast thou rampaged with the Flesh Hungerer?"

"What?" Jack asked, baffled beyond measure.

"Thou bears the stigma of the Flesh Hungerer. For what purpose wouldst a mewling of the cold take course with the Flesh Hungerer. Thou hast no material form," the primordial being demanded.

"That… dragon thing? Like a smoke?" He begged for clarification and held perfectly still.

"Verily!"

"It… it attacked me."

"And how dost thee know where the Flesh Hungerer lurks?"

While thinking over how to answer, Jack noticed walls of clouds surrounded him. They crackled and sparked with blue light. His body thrilled each time one got close. He felt caged by the forces that gave him life. It made him think of the Man in the Moon.

"Why dost thou take pause, Jack Frost?" It questioned him as if he were guilty of something.

"I, uh, sat with a friend… well, not really a friend, but more like someone I'd been following around, see, so I could learn about this place… and he, um, well… did things… to himself," Jack stammered. "And this smoky, ghost thing appeared. It had orange eyes. It looked like a dragon…"

"It takes on the manner best suited to the flesh summoning it forth," the being dismissively stated. "Thou ranged close to a mortal during a quickening, and the Flesh Hungerer came. Didst thou make exchange with the Flesh Hungerer?"

"It called me a stranger and then flew through me."

"And thou nary bade it thus?"

"What?" Jack blurted, confused by the unusual words.

"Didst thee invite it the Flesh Hungerer to this act?"

"Me? NO!"

"Thou speaks with veracity, Jack Frost, but thy heart is now touched. Thou will have desires, unbidden and unwanted and unsuited to thine post. Thou must take caution lest the mark of the Flesh Hungerer hinder thy course and calling."

Jack nodded because he thought it the right thing to do at the moment.

"What mantle dost thou assume in thy world, Jack Frost?" The pure elemental man inquired.

"What do I do?"

The wispy figured nodded.

"I'm, ah, a Guardian and the Spirit of Fun for children."

"Thou art a protector of mortal younglings?"

Jack nodded.

"Who granted thee thine gifts?"

"The, ah, Man in the Moon," Jack told him.

Overhead the clouds opened and revealed the velvety black sky pinpricked with stars. In one corner sat a moon, but quite unlike the one Jack knew. It did not pulse with life and endless knowledge. It made him feel sad.

"Long ago did Lady Mȧne grow silent and depart from these heavens, and never did I come to know why," the cloud man said with the feeling Jack felt while staring at the moon. "'Twas she who giveth a name to the mortals by which to call me."

"And that is…?"

The primal entity turned and eyed Jack for a moment with the black orbs that seemed deeper than forever. He thought he could hear the winds of eternity whistling out from the eyes. More importantly, the sheer raw power they exuded made Jack numb with both respect and fear.

"Thou mayest refer to me by that title. I am the one called Thursar H'rim."

Jack understood the power that came with a name, but he also knew Thursar H'rim did not give his real name. Each immortal carried a name they never spoke or shared, for doing so could give another authority over them. Thus, he went by the name Jack Frost, and he secreted his mortal name deep in his mind. Even if Thursar H'rim wanted to know it, the primordial being could not take it from Jack by force. It could only be willing spoken by the one who owned it.

"You honor me, Thursar H'rim," Jack replied and bowed.

"Thou art impudent, Jack Frost, and I think thou mocks me," Thursar H'rim rumbled and thunder crashed around them.

"I do not, Lord of Winter."

"How dost thou knowest my charge?"

"I can feel it. It feels like…me… only bigger than anything I could ever be," he confessed with awe.

"At least thou understands thine place in this, Jack Frost," Thursar H'rim replied and sounded satisfied. "As such, I grant these leave to call upon the cold and wind as thou are wont and able so long as thou resides in my demesne and brings no infliction."

"Thank you, sir," Jack stated with honest gratitude and bowed again. "But… can I ask you something?"

"Thou mayest make inquiry."

"Can you help me get back home?"

Thursar H'rim regarded him for a long time. The man of the clouds remained stock still despite the swirling winds and frigid temperatures. Jack realized the permission Thursar H'rim gave him to control the cold and wind amounted to a mere mote compared to what the being could do. He posed no threat whatsoever to Lord of Winter.

"What thou requests is beyond my power for 'twas not I that gave thee entry here," Thursar H'rim stated to Jack's dismay. "But I will ponder thy dilemma and peril…"

"Peril?" Jack blurted out the word.

"Surely thou knowest that thee cannot stay? This is not thy world, Jack Frost, and there are no means to support thine existence but for a short while. This demesne did not give rise to thee, and how thou lives now is but on lent power. It cannot last and thou will fade as shadows do into the night."

Real fear swept through Jack; a fear even greater than what Thursar H'rim could generate. Jack loved existing. He loved his calling and duty. He already died once, and doing it again did not rank high on his list. Granted, Jack accepted he could die while performing his duties, but that risk he willingly took. However, to fade from existence seemed absolutely horrible to him. While he reacted in shock, Thursar H'rim leaned in closer still.

"Dost thou realize what thou art?"

"I think so," Jack replied in a low voice.

"And does thou also knowest thee is rent from the source of thine life?"

"You mean the belief of children in me?"

The Lord of Winter nodded, but did not seem to accept that as the whole answer.

"What if I could get some to believe in me?" Jack begged the question.

"T'would only forestall the inevitable, Jack Frost," the powerful being told him.

"How long?"

"Mayhap a score or two of years. No more."

Against all probability, that news calmed Jack. It gave him a time frame within which to work. However, he still could not think of a way to return home without the aid of a blue troll. The news a being as strong as Thursar H'rim could not accomplish the task weighed heavily on him. Yet Jack forced himself to believe if he got to Halla, then he could get back to Earth. Another idea crossed his mind, but he needed to know one fact.

"Thursar H'rim, are there others like me here?" Jack queried.

"None such as thee reside in this demesne, Jack Frost. Thou art wholly new, and there may be found the reason why thou cannot survive."

"But what is the Flesh Hungerer? Isn't that like me?"

"If Lady Mȧne took bearing akin to thy Man in the Moon, then knowest this: thou rose and gained increase from the belief of children, Jack Frost, as bid by thy Man's design. Without that, thou art no more than gossamer and a half-forgotten dream. The Flesh Hungerer comes born from the wants of mortals they, themselves, scarcely perceive. Thou and the Flesh Hungerer differ like day from night and fire from water. The Lady Mȧne never bid one such as thee, stripling, to come forth," Thursar H'rim slowly explained.

Disappointment surged through him. Jack thought perhaps if another like him could lend aid, then he might find a way to return home. It stuck him that quite possibly this world teamed with primal and primordial magical beings. Should that be true, he thought, he would need to watch his step. Since it crossed his mind, he asked.

"Thursar H'rim, are you also alone in this world?" Jack decided on the phrasing.

"Prithee no, Jack Frost. Sommer Danser parts when I arrive and returns when I am spent. The Breathless One roams wherever it will when dawn comes no more to a mortal. Others I shall not name lurk. We the mighty are but few," Thursar H'rim told him. "There are the likes of the Flesh Hungerer; themselves a multitude and bane betimes. These will avoid thee as thou bears a semblance of me."

"Oh," he rejoined, wondering what sort of creature Thursar H'rim would not name. Yet Jack did not want to always be alone. He asked: "May I come visit you every once in a while… if you'll allow it?"

"Seek me not when snow flies or tempest whirls and ice cracks," the pure elemental warned. "Look to days when clouds roam high and waters lay smooth, for then I partake of rest. Thou mayest come to me for brief times if thou so desires. Heed my word, Jack Frost: if I call to thee, then thou must make appearance to me straight away."

"Yes, sir."

"Pray thee do as thine geis commands, for our time draws nigh. Thou hast days yet afore thee, and be as thou wert willed."

Before Jack could respond or ask what he meant, Thursar H'rim receded back into the clouds. Wild winds began to blow and the temperature dropped until below freezing; however, Jack remained unaffected. Rather, he felt his powers spring to life and flood through his veins. Lord of Winter remained true to his word, and Jack felt more like himself since first arriving in Halla. He watched as the clouds tumbled upon one another and appeared to roll across the sky chasing the horizon. The physical absence of Thursar H'rim notwithstanding, Jack continued to sense the power of the elemental all around. Winter, it seemed, approached with due haste.

The Spirit of Fun did not witness the arrival of winter alone, although he proved the first. Several weeks later Hiccup stood wrapped in a heavy fur cloak on the landing perch of the dragon home on Berk, an old cave refitted for the benefit of the local dragons. He looked out over the ocean and saw thick clouds amass in the distance. The wind tussling his hair possessed more than a bite of cold: it stung. To his mind it heralded a long hard winter like most spent in Berk. This time, however, Hiccup felt more alone. For over three weeks he pondered what he heard the afternoon he spent relieving pent up frustrations and tensions in his quarters. More and more as he replayed it in his mind, it sounded like a cry of someone in trouble. Yet none knew of anyone facing distress that day. In the end, the small mystery disconcerted Hiccup. Fortunately, he stopped hearing phantom sounds and voices. Hence, he believed his sanity remained intact regardless of the efforts of his kith and kin Berk.

"Do you plan on falling to your death?" Fishlegs called out to him from the perch entrance. "'Cause I don't think the wind is going to die down."

Privately Hiccup agreed with his friend. He scanned the horizon one last time and then headed in to relative safety of the cave. The cavern proved light and warm since the number of stoker dragons kept lanterns lit and hearths blazing. Most found the din in the dragon cave deafening, but for those trained to listen it gave them important clues as to the well-being of the creatures nested there. In the center of the chaos Hiccup's mother appeared to hold court. Various riders and caretakers approached her for advice on a plethora of issues concerning the dragons. Once Hiccup suffered pangs of jealousy over his dam's natural talents and incredible store of knowledge, now it gave him precious free time he more than welcomed. To be certain, he remained directly involved in much of the goings-on about dragons, but he no longer shouldered the responsibility alone.

"Mom," he called across the cavernous space, relishing each time he got to use the term. Although his voice got swallowed by the cacophony, his mother turned her head. "Early storm coming in from the east. We're bolting down the main perch landing door and leaving the passages open."

Valka nodded her head. Behind Hiccup Fishlegs pushed the giant wooden bolt through iron loops on the frames of the doors to keep them from opening if a fierce gale rose up. Some called Fishlegs fat, and the description being somewhat apt belied the strength in his form even Snotlout respected. Fishlegs rode a gronkle, and a weak person did not – could not – ride a gronkle. Above even his hidden prowess, the young man turned himself into a walking encyclopedia of dragon knowledge that rivaled Valka's. She often conferred with Fishlegs both as a courtesy and a necessity. Together they teased out the trickier mysteries of dragons.

"You look good in your father's cloak," Astrid said, coming up beside him. He flinched when she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Cold?"

"In this thing? Only a dead person would be cold," Hiccup replied. "I need to cut more off it because even your hand feels like too much weight with it on."

Astrid chuckled at his hyperbole. Like him, she also wore a long, fur cloak to keep her slender form warm. He found it harder and harder to find reasonable excuses to avoid her touch without upsetting her. Astrid angry scared just about everyone and most sensible dragons. Had Hiccup not discovered a good number of dragon species to be both friendly and tamable, he would wager serious money on her becoming the leading dragon slayer of the village. Both as a rider and a warrior, the young woman trained harder than anyone. Her skill with a double-bladed axe already reached legendary proportions. Thus, Hiccup knew his lifespan would be cut short if he did not delicately distance himself from her emotionally and physically. The hardest part rested in the fact he highly valued her friendship and did not want to entirely lose it.

"Maybe I won't 'cause it's going to be a cold one this year," he amended.

"Bucket says the same thing. He said it already feels tight on his head," she added.

They glanced at one another with worried expressions. Part of Bucket's skull and a hand went missing after a close shave with sword and sharp-class dragon in his youth. While the skin grew over the open area of his head, the bone never healed. Thus, he wore a real metal buck to protect his brain. As such, fluctuations in temperatures often affected Bucket first. To hear he predicted a cold winter so early in the season did not bode well.

"Do we have enough fuel and food?" Hiccup ruminated mostly to himself.

Astrid shrugged and said: "We should. A lot of those holes that whispering death drilled are packed with salted fish and blackrock. If we can keep the dragons fed, we'll be able to stay warm."

Hiccup nodded. Her supposition made sense, but he did not look forward to six months of salted fish. Every spring he felt like a bloated whale from the amount of water his body tried to retain to balance the salt intake. Hunting for other meat often served as a good reason to get away from the village, and the people always appreciated fresh game even if a dragon killed and ate half of it. Even at this early stage of the oncoming winter Hiccup found himself planning ways to get away and be on his own. Privately he began to harbor doubts as to his ability and capacity to be a good chieftain.

"Did you and Fishlegs ever find a way to… ah, contain the, um… gas of dragons?" She hesitantly inquired on a topic about which no one could adequately or delicately describe it.

"A lot of people laugh, but dragon farts could be useful," Hiccup said without any embarrassment. Dragon flatulence formed part of their lives, and Fishlegs identified it as a possible resource. "If we could only get them to wear an apparatus or something that could catch it."

Astrid shook her head. Their experiments thus far proved disastrous, and several dragons would flee when they saw Hiccup and Fishlegs together. Many people enjoyed watching the attempts. For all the serious thought they put into the notion, the two ingenious Vikings never discovered a workable method to enact it. No dragon would tolerate being connected to a collection device. On the one occasion when they did succeed, the resulting gas proved highly unstable and combusted on its own. The explosion took out their work shed.

"Well, don't get yourself killed trying," Astrid said and snickered.

"Go ahead and laugh, but we'll figure it out. You'll see, and then you won't laugh!"

Astrid walked away with a stiff gait and did a poor job at stifling her giggles. Hiccup noted her reaction. He reasoned if he could find enough disgusting but theoretically possible and useful projects, she might just abandon him. One such idea floated in the back of his mind that he yet to propose to Fishlegs for experimentation. However, with the onset of winter and other logistical issues facing them, the time could be right.

"We already use it for fires sometimes, so maybe we can… distill it?" He mumbled part of the new idea to himself.

"Always a bad sign when you start talking to yourself," Ruffnut said as she approached. "Snotlout needs you to look over what they've done. It doesn't look too sturdy."

"Did they goof around much?"

"Does a hammer fight count?"

Hiccup sighed and rolled his eyes. Snotlout and Tuffnut wanted to be involved, at times eagerly so, but their attention to detail and their attention span in general made utilizing the two difficult. Over the years they formed a fast friendship predicated on terrible jokes and trying to out-do one another. Snotlout continued to delude himself by thinking he could land Ruffnut as a partner and mate. Her twin brother could not talk him out of the notion. Ruffnut, for her part, made no secret of her desires for Eret. He followed her to the pens their dragon riding compatriots repaired. As they got closer, Hiccup realized Ruffnut's flare for understatement carried the day.

"What did you guys do?" Hiccup yelled.

Aside from the various new bruises and welts on his two friends, their handiwork suffered even more. It took Hiccup all of two seconds to find the weakest points. He leaned against one of the improperly positioned posts. The entire fencing structure groaned.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you. Might come down," Tuffnut cautioned.

"And what's going to stop a dragon from leaning against it?" Hiccup countered.

"I don't know. Training?"

"This all wrong. Take it apart and follow the drawings this time. We gave them to you for a reason."

"Snotlout used it as a napkin," Ruffnut quipped adjusting her ever present helmet.

"Remind me to kill him when he pops up," Hiccup asked her.

"He's over there if you want to get started."

Hiccup's eyes followed the line of her outstretched arm. Down below in at the mouth of one of the feeding pens, Snotlout stood talking to Gottfried. Hiccup felt his heart skip a beat and his body sag a little. Gottfried possessed many of the physical qualities to which Hiccup aspired. His physique looked like a combination of Hiccup and Snotlout: muscled, but not overly so and wonderfully proportioned. His light brown hair, twisted into a knot at the base of his neck, shone with a shine even the women of the clan envied. His dark brown eyes seemed to hide essential secrets that, if revealed, could lead to a lifetime of happiness. Even the stubble of a beard he constantly wore seemed a work of art. Hiccup sighed while gazing at the young man.

"What are you ga-ga over?" Ruffnut inquired and slapped his arm.

"Do you think I could ever look like Gottfried?" Hiccup asked to cover his momentary infatuation.

"Sure, if you peeled off your skin and he wore you like clothes," his friend said and proceeded to laugh hysterically at her own joke.

Hiccup laughed with her, although he faked it.

Since summer ended and autumn began, Hiccup found himself more entranced by Gottfried each day. Not only did he admire the physical attributes of his clansman, but he liked the personality as well. Only one word described Gottfried: bashful. No matter to whom he spoke, he usually wound up flush-cheeked for either something he said or thought. He tended to be quiet rather than make some blunder in conversation, completely at odds with the woman who stood next to Hiccup.

Although Gottfried did not ride a dragon since he claimed it would be unfair to ask another creature to bear his weight, he acted as a sort of gourmet chef for the beasts. In truth, Gottfried gained a reputation as an excellent cook for humans. He somehow understood the tastes of individuals, including dragons, and could prepare a meal the most finicky person could not reject. He nursed many a dragon through sickness by getting them to eat when they otherwise would not. Hiccup lost count of the number of dragon lives the young man probably saved. Thus, Hiccup felt emotionally reactionary to him.

"Hiccup skin. I wonder how hard it'd be to get it off you," Ruffnut barked with renewed laughter since the joke continued in her mind.

"You are a sick, sick woman, Ruffnut," he only half-jokingly teased her.

She playfully punched him in the arm, but still hard enough so he took a step forward

"Tell my mom and the others I'm heading back to the great hall to draft new plans for Snotlout and your brother," Hiccup requested. "And make sure they disassemble that death trap."

Ruffnut agreed by punching him yet again. He rubbed his shoulder while walking toward the exit of the dragon cave. Normally he treasured spending time there since it kept him close to the creatures he loved almost more than anything else. Astrid's constant lingering near him and Gottfried's frequent distance made him want to be elsewhere. He used the need for the new pen gate plans as the excuse. People often left him alone when he sat in the great hall with his sketchbook or a roll of drafting parchment, respecting the fact he worked for their benefit. Hiccup walked along the narrow northern passage to the exit. When he stepped outside, he got a shock.

"This is not real," Hiccup complained while wrapping his father's old cloak more tightly about him. In the short time since he left the landing perch to when he left the cavern, the temperature dropped considerably. His breath formed a small plume. "Brrr."

Along the way he as walked toward the main longhouse, Hiccup saw a group of children standing next to a house whispering excitedly to one another. Not one appeared to be older than ten years, and he wondered what could fascinate them so much they braved the deepening cold. He quietly came up behind them.

"It's like somebody's painting it," Stumpflower, an unfortunate but typical Berkian girl name, said.

"What?" Hiccup asked and leaned over.

On the ground sat an old curved shield, half filled with water, staring to crust over with ice. However, it did so in a manner so beautiful and unusual it instantly captivated the young chieftain. Fronds and tendrils of ice formed on the water surface, creating delicate patterns. The designs interlocked and expanded in the rapidly freezing liquid. Within minutes the entire surface formed a rondel of exquisite beauty in translucent blue and white. Hiccup found his breathing came in short pants, as did those of the children.

"It's been happening all over the place," a boy told him, and then took his hand.

Hiccup let the child lead him around. At each stop the youth showed the young adult another frozen wonder. In all his life Hiccup could not remember ice taking on rounded forms like that. Usually spiky patterns or ice nodules took shape. His somewhat scientific mind tried to sort out the cause and effect relationship, but it left him stymied.

"Goatteeth says it's an invisible man making the ice do that," Boogercheese stated. "She says you can see his finger making the picture."

By this time, the group of tragically named children ran across the square to a new location. Hiccup followed them. Once again he watched in awe as amazing curls and ringlets appeared on the freezing surface of the water. As Boogercheese noted what Goatteeth speculated, and Hiccup considered imposing a new naming law, it did, indeed, seem as if transparent hand traced out the coils and leaves. Hiccup became mesmerized yet again by the transformation of water to ice.

"Isemaler," a small voice whispered, and most of the other children repeated the word.

Hiccup nodded his head and agreed with the term. Whatever caused the reaction in the water should be called an ice painter. When the piece finished, Hiccup stood. As much as he wanted to see it happen again, other issues pressed on him. It took an effort of will to continue his trek to the great hall. Halfway there he paused, and looked back. Three of the children stared at the empty air, all wildly grinning and chatting. Deep down, Hiccup missed the days when he could give into such simple imaging. Adulthood and his role as chief came at a high cost, he thought, while climbing the stone steps.

"Tomorrow," Jack said to the children who stared at him as he floated half a foot above the ground, his crook grasped in his left hand. "I'll make more tomorrow."

He then flew up into the air, guided by his staff, and then around a rock outcropping. In all his far-flung hopes he never dreamed he could get children to see him with such speed. Of course, three centuries of practice and his installation as a Guardian probably helped, he considered. Regardless, Jack spent several weeks adjusting to the different flavor of magic made available to him. Thursar H'rim lent him potent powers that spun out of control the first few times Jack tried, and several small animals became entombed in ice as a result. He learned to take small sips of energy to carry out his tricks. More than ever, Jack respected Thursar H'rim.

"They gave me a name!" He cried with glee as he darted between trees. "Isemaler! Isemaler!"

In the lives of elemental and immortal beings, being granted a name by mortals took on monumental importance. Jack could feel his body thrumming with energy and power as the new reality set in. He could now take physical form because the belief of even a few children demanded it. For them, it explained how he could make the ice pictures. In three weeks' time Jack went from insubstantial to a named being. He hoped he could tell the Man in the Moon of this one day and thank him. He also wanted to crow about it to the Easter Bunny and receive an approving nod from the Sandman.

"ISEMALER!" A voice like thunder rumbled over the hills.

To mortal ears it would only be thunder. To immortal ears, it became a summons. Jack flew into the sky where he saw clouds gathering. When he broke through the bottom layer, he saw the tall figure of a strangely configured man staring at him with depthless onyx eyes. Jack flew to him.

"Thou hast achieved much quickly, stripling," Thursar H'rim said, and it sounded both pleased and annoyed. "Methinks thou did not account fully to me."

"Sir?" Jack asked, puzzled.

"Thou art a construct of the Man in the Moon?"

"He raised me from the frozen lake and gave me my powers," Jack answered.

"Thou wert mortal, and thou perished?"

Jack nodded.

"Then surely the Man in the Moon is a Breathless one!" Thursar H'rim loudly concluded, sending his voice crashing about.

"I don't think so," Jack refuted, yet only the vaguest inkling of the nature of the Breathless One settled in his mind.

"I am kin to the Breathless One, and those powers I cannot practice are known to me, Jack Frost. Only the Breathless One may stay mortal death, but the Breathless One cannot grant powers. Thy world troubles me, Jack Frost."

Blue-green flashes of lightning zipped through the clouds. A low peel of thunder accentuated the words. Jack could feel Thursar H'rim's eyes piercing him, looking within his being. Old tales of Earth mythology rose up in his mind. He could think of half a dozen names people from his world would call the being standing before him.

"True, my world is different from this one. Maybe our rules are a little different, too."

"Verily."

"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" Jack asked in haste.

"Wrong? Mayhap not, but surprising thou is. Had I known of thy true beginnings, I would forestall haste in granting thee leave to use my forces. Yet I see thy hand at work, Jack Frost, and thou remain true to thy course and station. This aspect thou givest winter pleases me. I accept the mantle of Isemaler as thine, and thus shall thy work be known," Thursar H'rim slowly said as if weighing the severity of each and every word.

"I am humbled, Thursar H'rim, and I thank you," he replied and bowed.

"But harken and take heed, young one: my eyes follow thee at every step. Thou art my subject so long as thee draws power from my demesne. Should thou taint the wintertime with thy deeds, then thou willst be sundered from the energies and left to suffer as best thou can," the potent immortal decreed.

"I understand, sir."

One moment Thursar H'rim stood before him, and the next nothing but indistinct clouds remained. As before, Jack could feel the entity all around. Also as before, he departed the meeting with the immortal both delighted and wary. On one hand he accepted Jack's accomplishments, but those same accomplishments seemed to trouble Thursar H'rim because it revealed part of Jack's real nature. Not a single doubt rested in Jack's mind that the immortal would allow him to die a slow death by fading should he do something wrong. However, a personal sense of integrity guided Jack and he did not need the threats of an elder being to make him follow the right course. Jack knew his duty and he would do it. He must or else he might not find a way home in the time allotted to him.

"I will bring winter joy to the young," he said quietly under his breath as he flew out of the clouds.

A ripple of thunder greeted his words. Jack grinned at the realization Thursar H'rim heard him. Then it unnerved him to think the creature knew everything he did. The wariness dissipated when he remembered the Man in the Moon did the same. It seemed life here would be similar to that on Earth.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	3. Chapter 3

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Three**

by D. O'Shae

Word spread around Berk and many other islands regarding the fascinating formations in the ice. Each day new works appeared to the delight of everyone. Children led the way. One by one more and more children could see Jack. He answered to his new name without pause. It almost startled him when adults began using it as well. As a winter settled firmly over the archipelago of islands in northern Halla, cold winds blew and snow piled up, and Jack turned to making vague flower shapes in the snow that would barely last a day. However, it kept his name alive and gave him a new art to practice when not enticing the young to play in the winter powder.

"Do you think it's a god?" His mother asked one evening as they stoked the fires Toothless thoughtfully set ablaze in the fireplace and stoves of the house.

"Mother, I think it just happens," Hiccup answered while throwing a frozen fish to his companion as a treat. "It looks like the cold came on so fast it changed the way ice formed."

Valka remained silent and eyed her son. He rolled his eyes at her reaction. Unlike the others, Hiccup did not have time for fantasy. The villagers looked to him for leadership, as did the dragon riders. He thought back to how often he criticized his father for putting the needs of Berk before his son, and he finally understood why. The lives of these people, ones who implicitly trusted him to guide them through hardship, rested in his hands. If he made a mistake, then people could well die. Some nights Hiccup lay awake feeling terribly alone with the responsibility.

"And if it is a god?" Valka queried.

"Then he or she… or it does amazing work," he said, giving in for a moment. "I've got to admit it's beautiful, and I've never seen anything like it before. Whatever Isemaler is it's made Berk a little better."

Valka smiled at her son.

"But I'm not saying I believe it's a god or anything like that," Hiccup quickly amended.

"Mmm-hmm," the woman hummed knowingly at her boy.

They hurried to warm the house against the cold and set things in order. Like most evenings, they took their meal in the great hall so Hiccup could give audience to a long line of people bringing up issues of both great importance and a fanatical devotion to pointless minutia. He kept a list of items needing immediate attention. With winter underway, the greatest concern centered on making certain enough blackrock and wood got set aside to keep houses warm. Everyone got a daily allotment, administered by Gobber, who shut down all but one the forges down for the winter to conserve fuel. After people aired their concerns, the drinking, singing, and storytelling commenced. Sometimes Hiccup stayed for the entertainment value while on other occasions he would go home to continue to work.

"I'm going upstairs to finish the plans for the new pen gates. The ones I had Snotlout and Tuffnut build don't work right," Hiccup told his mother.

"I'm turning in early. Cloudjumper and I are looking for strays in the morning" Valka told her son.

Hiccup nodded, turned to Toothless and said in childish sing-song voice: "What is the big baby boo going to do wif his wubba self?"

Toothless warbled what sounded like a sarcastic imitation of Hiccup. Hiccup laughed at having gotten to the dragon and mounted the steps. The creature sat looking at his rider while he passed, and then let out with a resounding sneeze. Huge flecks of dragon snot and spit spattered half of Hiccup's back, head, and neck. He froze and shuddered. Both Toothless and Valka chuckled.

"You know I'm going to have to get even for that?" Hiccup replied without turning around. "I think you'll need some eel oil to make sure you don't get bound up."

In a panic the dragon launched himself up to the second story in a single leap. Valka laughed at Hiccups' vengeance while Toothless grumbled his complaints from above. Hiccup let out with a soft snicker at his ingenuity.

"You two," his mother quipped and warmly smiled while turning to go to her quarters, ones formerly occupied by her late husband.

"Night, mom," he said.

"Good night, son," she replied.

In a few words son and mother conveyed a lot of emotion. While other children Hiccup's age tried to get away from parents and live on their own, Hiccup found it pleasant to think his mother enjoyed his company enough to share living space with him. Her presence helped save Hiccup from complete emotional collapse after his father got killed. Many nights she told him stories of Stoick's youth. Hiccup got to know his late father in a way he wished would have in life.

"Is baby boo snuggly wuggly comfy in his bed?" He teased the dragon when he entered his loft room.

Once again the dragon grumbled in a sarcastic manner, but already wound himself up in a tight ball and began to flip a wing over his head. Hiccup used a dirty over-shirt to wipe off the worst of the mess his dragon created on his back. He could not stop grinning at how they interacted with one another. If someone asked and Hiccup had to be honest, then he would admit he could no longer remember life without the dragon.

"Night, bud," Hiccup said and did not hide his feelings about his companion.

Toothless let out a long, warbled sigh.

Hiccup went to his desk and lit a lamp. The light from the heating stove did not reach far enough. Since Toothless opted for sleep, the cleaver sconces on the wall remained unlit. Hiccup sat as his desk dressed in winter riding leathers to keep out the cold until the house warmed. Among the assorted items on his desk, he found and picked up a charcoal stick, sharpened it, and then he stared at a piece of blank parchment thinking about the ways to make the gates functional for the dragons. Ideas began to percolate in his head. When the tip of the writing stick met the parchment, Hiccup went into full engineering mode.

Behind him an invisible figure watched the progress. Jack arrived through the wall just after Toothless coiled himself for sleep. Of all the people on Berk, the young chief still held the elemental's interest the most. Hiccup's sense of duty to his people reminded Jack of his own to his cause. He felt he understood the young man better than anyone else on the island, and he spent time with all of them. He floated about Hiccup's left shoulder and watched lines appear on the parchment along with numbers in neat print, equations, revisions, and tiny paragraphs describing actions.

"That's pretty clever," Jack muttered to himself. "But how will they open it if the spring is too tight?"

"Hmm," Hiccup hummed after a few seconds. "What if the release triggered a catch so the gate can be opened, but with a pull line to activate the return spring and cog?"

Jack nodded and watched as the young inventor sketched out his idea on another sheet. Bit by bit the Spirit of Fun witnessed the birth of a new mechanism on Halla. He became convinced Hiccup received his ideas from somewhere out in the ether. In many respects, the Viking could live in Jack's world and fit in just fine. His displayed a modern mind.

"Now we just got to train them to open the gate past a certain point so the catch retracts."

"Shouldn't be too hard. Dragons are smart enough," Jack casually answered.

"Yeah, they are," Hiccup replied.

Hiccup froze for a three count. He slowly craned his head around. His eyes scanned the room, and then he looked up to the point where he thought he heard the voice. Hiccup saw nothing. He swallowed hard against the sense of panic it brewed in him. He found he did not miss the strange, far off whispers over the past several weeks during their absence. The problem he encountered this time centered on the fact that what he heard sounded like a response to his thinking aloud.

"Hello?" He tentatively inquired to the empty air.

Jack stay in place and did not move. The chieftain's reaction could not be coincidental. Hiccup heard him. However, the young man still could not see him. That no longer mattered. Enough children on the islands provided sufficient belief that he could materialize with some concentrated effort, unlike his home world where he did it with ease. Despite that, Jack remained reluctant to show himself to adults. While he cared for adults, they were not part of his specific charge.

"Anyone?" Hiccup asked in a nervous voice, eyes darting around.

The plaintive tone struck a chord with Jack. He looked about. On the writing desk sat a small bowl of water Hiccup used to rub out mistakes he made while drafting. Jack floated up and around the dragon rider. He positioned himself above and to the right of the bowl. During the interim, Hiccup appeared to decide he simply heard things. He faced his desk and drawings again, inadvertently looking straight at Jack.

"Maybe I should go to bed," he quietly said.

"Please don't," Jack implored him.

Hiccup's eyes grew as big as Toothless'. His body remained rigid and unmoving. He swallowed hard against his fear.

"W-who is th-th-that?" Hiccup asked.

"Me," Jack softly responded. Then he reached down and with an invisible hand, he touched the bowl of water so it moved.

Hiccup's eyes immediately saw the movement and glued themselves to the bowl.

With great care Jack began to trace a gentle arching curve on the water surface while letting a small amount of magic flow through his finger. The water solidified and did as expected: gentle ice fronds grew where the intense cold spread from Jack's finger. He repeated the motion with a shorter stroke. Within seconds a delicate pattern of two glittering branches took form. Hiccup's eyes could grow no wider as he watched the wonder emerge.

"Isemaler," the dragon rider whispered.

"Me," Jack repeated.

"You're real."

"I am."

"Are you a god?" Hiccup asked so quietly it forced one to strain to hear it.

"I… don't… think… so," Jack hesitantly answered.

"What are you?"

"Would you like to see me?"

Hiccup froze yet again. One part of his mind rejected the idea. Another part jumped in excitement at the notion. A third portion urged caution. His father used to say dealing with gods or spirits could be a tricky affair since their sense of right or wrong did not always match that of people. Regardless, it made Hiccup nervous beyond measure to think some unseen being lurked in his private room.

"Are you something strange and weird and ugly that's going to drive me insane if I see it?" The young mortal man asked in a rush.

For reasons he could not explain, Jack took affront to the question. Without actually thinking about it, he gathered energy from the room and forced it through his entire being. The decision to manifest happened just as he did it. Jack materialized without a sound.

"Oh, gods!" Hiccup hollered and fell backward off of his stool. He landed with a thump on the floor.

Toothless awoke with a start, saw the hovering figure, and let out a loud roar while jumping to his feet. His mouth opened and light began to gleam. Jack understood what the dragon intended to do, and he thought it a poor choice of action in a wooden house. He disappeared and zoomed toward the stairwell just as head emerged through the opening.

"Toothless, stop!" Valka commanded.

Toothless sucked back on the impending plasma ball and burped a cloud of smoke.

"What in Odin's name is going on here?" She asked her son who scramble to get off the floor while she climbed up. She finished tying off the fleece-lined robe about her thin frame. One could tell from whom Hiccup got his physical stature.

"Nothing, Mom," he told her after he gained his feet and nervously glanced around the room. "I… ah… nodded off… fell over."

Hiccup watched while his mother scrutinized him. He tried to act calmer, but he could not help noticing the way Toothless stared at the space above Valka. A few moments later, the woman noticed the behavior as well. She looked up and over her shoulder to see if she could spot what held the dragon's guarded attention.

Jack felt all the eyes on him. He regretted he acted with haste. With deliberate slowness, the elemental young man drifted backward and through the wall. However, he did not leave the house: he simply kept out of sight of the dragon he now knew could see him regardless of his material state.

Toothless let out a snort as if satisfied, and then sat down on his haunches. He proceeded to act as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Gradually, mother and son resumed looking at one another.

"What was that all about?" Valka inquired.

"I honestly have no idea," Hiccup honestly told his mother, although a suspicion nestled in his mind.

"Want me to fix you a cup of warm yak's milk to help you relax?" His mother suggested in a motherly manner.

Hiccup shuddered and winced in disgust. She knew he detested yak milk. Toothless let out a chortle at his reaction as if thinking it fitting for the eel oil comment earlier in the evening.

"Quiet you," he muttered at the dragon.

"Well, at least I know you're okay."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine now."

"You didn't hit your head or something like that? It sounded like you fell pretty hard," Valka pressed on.

"Only thing that go hurt was my pride, Mom, and maybe my butt. I, ah, feel kind of stupid," he rejoined and felt his cheeks heat up.

Valka smirked at her son.

"I think I'm going to turn in," Hiccup added for good measure.

"Might be best," Valka agreed. "Good night, Hiccup."

"Yeah, good night… again, Mom."

She turned and went to the stairs and glanced at the open space above it for a second. While the woman navigated her way down the log steps, Hiccup went to the dragon. Toothless watched him approach with a quizzical expression. Hiccup placed a hand on either side of the head and stared into the large left eye of the beast.

"You saw that, too, didn't you?" He whispered to his friend. "I know you did. It was him, wasn't it? Isemaler?"

Toothless grunted once as if to confirm the questions. Hiccup scratched him under the chin and elicited a delighted grumble. The man did not doubt for one second the dragon saw what he saw. Moreover, Toothless seemed to know where the strange being disappeared. Question upon question piled up in his head. However, one aspect remained perfectly clear in his mind: he saw the floating body of a young man with white hair wearing a blue sweater and brown pants.

After patting Toothless on the cheeks one last time, he released his friend, walked to his bed, and sat down. The image of the person sitting cross-legged in the middle of the air stayed with him. One curiosity added to another, and Hiccup tried to reason out why the spirit carried a branch. He focused on remembering as many details as he could. Years of riding a dragon and taking in visual information in the blink of an eye gave the young chieftain a knack for picking out details on something barely seen. After a while, Hiccup got up and went to his drawing table.

Ten minutes later a sketch of the phantom person lay on his desk. Try as he might, Hiccup felt he did not correctly draw the face. Then again, he only had two seconds to see it. Satisfied he preserved his memory of Isemaler as best he could, Hiccup went and got ready for bed. He stripped out of his riding gear, pulled off his mechanical leg, and slipped into a heavy cloth nightshirt. After blowing out his lamp, he moved carefully through the dark to his bed, and then crawled under the covers were cold still linger. The young chieftain shivered a bit while thrashing around in an effort warm his sheets.

Jack floated back through the wall. He saw the dragon curled up once more in sleep. He heard Hiccup wrestling around in the bed. Safe from eyes that could see him, Jack went to the desk. The dying ember on the wick of the lamp gave his sensitive elemental eyes enough light to see the drawing. The rendering impressed him to no end.

"Wow, he's good at drawing, too," he softly said.

In the dark, Hiccup lay in bed with his eyes wide open staring at the darkness above. He could not decide if he needed to be afraid again or if he should accept the praise from a talented artist like Isemaler. Regardless, he heard the compliment as clearly as if a real person said it. It took Hiccup a long while before sleep found him. He waited to hear the spirit again, but only silence and Toothless' occasional grunts filled his ears.

In the days that followed, the villagers noticed something weighed on their chief. Hiccup could be seen staring off into the distance as though looking to the shores of a distant land. When asked, he gave clipped, short answers that told them nothing. Even Valka wondered aloud in private conversation with others at the changed mood of her son. She told Gobber about the night he fell asleep and out of his chair and how it seemed to coincide with the onset of his current disposition. Gobber agreed to have a talk with the young chieftain.

"So, Valka says ye smashed yer head a few nights ago," the stout man stated the next day after mid-meal when most everyone left the longhouse. Gobber did not believe in pussyfooting around a topic.

"I did not hit my head, and I told her that," Hiccup grumbled and slunk down further in his chair while staring at the door. He felt his frustration rise. Since the first night, neither he nor Toothless saw Isemaler again, although he heard the children talking about his handiwork.

Gobber leaned against the heavy carved chair of the chief and asked: "Well, then, laddie, what gotten into yer craw?"

Hiccup squirmed in his seat. That day he did not wear his winter riding leathers since he gave them a much needed airing out. Instead he wore heavy broadcloth pants died a deep moss green, three sturdy wool shirts, a fur-lined boot, and the ever present winter cloak of his father. While it kept Hiccup warm, he felt naked in a different manner. He felt unprepared if an emergency came up. However, the snowstorm that gripped the island for the last day would daunt any attack. Hiccup glanced at Gobber and pondered how to answer.

"Trolls are eating my socks," he blurted and used one of his mentor's favorite complaints.

"See? I've been saying for years the bloody buggers been up to that. When did it start, Hiccup?"

From the corner of his eyes, Hiccup regarded the blond, powerful Viking smithy to determine if the man simply played along. From the look of things, Gobber appeared sincere. He felt a pang of guilt at toying with his friend. A second thought arose that the man needed a new outfit of clothing. What the elder Viking wore he wore for years. However, a question needed answering.

"When the ice leaves started showing up," Hiccup replied.

"Ye know, I'd been wondering about that myself. Ye think it's the trolls making 'em 'cause it'd be something new for them to do. Never knew them to have an artsy bent," the man rejoined and speculated.

Now Hiccup felt very guilty. For as long as he could remember, Gobber spent considerable social effort trying to convince others sock stealing trolls truly existed. When the subject came up, people tended to vanish as easily and quickly as Hiccup saw Isemaler do. He began to regret using the example with the man.

"No, trolls have thick fingers and you can smell them a mile off," Hiccup amended his observation with made-up details. "I think if they tried to make anything out of ice, it'd look like frozen mud."

"Or poo," Gobber threw in for good measure.

The younger man shook his head. When he saw Gottfried slip through the door on the other end of the hall, he felt his heart race. His worry over tricking Gobber vanished as he watched the very pleasant looking Viking go to a table and attempt to start a conversation with those sitting around it. Even from that distance he could see the young man's cheeks turn to ripe apples. Hiccup found Gottfried's bashfulness endearing. He sighed.

"Are ye sure ye've nothing else on yer mind, Hiccup?" Gobber asked after a few long moments of contemplation, and the tone of his voice grabbed the chieftain's attention.

"What?" Hiccup pounced on the word while forcibly tearing his eyes away from Gottfried.

"Ye know, I've noticed for a while now ye and Astrid've been growing apart. Maybe it's ye becoming chief and all, but… maybe there's more… er, maybe less to it than that," the man stammered his way through the answer.

"What are you talking about?"

Gobber scratched under his helmet with the fork still attached to his right arm. Hiccup could hear it scrape against a scalp made tough by decades of working hot metal and fighting hotter dragons. His small blue eyes narrowed while he thought. Hiccup waited, and his stomach started to twitch while he did. When Gobber took that long to arrange his thinking, it meant something serious would come out of his mouth.

"Think of it like this, lad," the man began and shifted his weight onto his non-peg leg. "Say ye've found a perfect spot for a house on a cliff."

"Why?" Hiccup asked.

"Just hold yer tongue 'til I'm done. This is a bit tricky, it is."

Hiccup closed his mouth and held his questions at bay.

"So this place where ye want to build has nice trees around it, some good grass for maybe a sheep or a goat, a place ye could dig and plant some flowers or perhaps a few stands of corn or squash. Ye know I like a good steamed squash in the summer, 'cepting Grump don't always watch his flame and boils away the water and chars the squash…"

"Are you giving me a cooking lesson?" Hiccup testily inquired and eyed his lifelong friend.

"Ah, no. That, eh, wasn't what I wanted to get to," Gobber said, properly embarrassed as he realized he strayed from his original topic. "What I was saying, Hiccup, is this place for a house is perfect. There's even a big rock on the cliff lip where'd ye anchor a line so ye could let yerself down to the water or haul it up if ye needed."

"Why? I've got a dragon who can fly me down."

"Ah, good point that, and that's part of the problem. So this rock ye thought ye wanted now gets in the way of yer view. Ye've got nothing against it, 'cept what it don't fit right where it sits and spoils what ye're trying to do, but ye can't help but thinking it'd still do ye some good if only ye could figure out how to make it work."

"Why not get rid of it? Push it over the side or something like that?" The younger man inquired, and then adjusted his seating position, wrapped the cloak tighter about him, and stared at Gobber. His curiosity over what the man tried to tell him overrode his annoyance at the winding story.

"Sure, ye could do that if ye wanted, but even ye knows a good solid stone of the right height and shape comes in handy every now and then, and ye'd hate to waste a good stone," Gobber said as if stating the obvious.

"I'm not following you," Hiccup finally confessed.

Gobber gently placed his remaining, strong hand on Hiccup's shoulder and said: "Sometimes, Hiccup, ye've got to admit when something just isn't right and it's time to find what ye really need. Sometimes ye're the house and sometimes ye're the rock, and ye've got to know which is which."

Hiccup just gaped at the Viking, completely confused and lost.

"Look, lad," and the man turned to his gaze toward Gottfried. "I know what ye sees. Right now I sees you and Astrid are rocks to each other… and neither of ye can see what ye really wants. It's time to let go, Hiccup, and find a different spot for yer house."

"Gobber?" Hiccup said the name as a question and with a rising sense of internal panic. He started to rise from the chair.

The elder Viking applied his strength and all but pushed Hiccup through the seat. Every so often the young chieftain needed a reminder of what his friend and mentor could actually do. Vikings possessed a natural hardiness and strength, but a lifetime working in an armory added an extra layer to Gobber. In the days when Stoick the Vast became a single father to a son he did not understand, he placed Hiccup in the care of the man hoping some of the strength and toughness would wear off on the boy. Instead, Hiccup landed in a perfect spot to hone his inventive genius. At the same time as Gobber taught him to work metal, he also taught the boy how to truly observe. Hiccup often overlooked the fact his mentor often saw more than he ever revealed.

"Hiccup, no one will care if it means they get their chieftain back… one who can properly look after them," Gobber told him with a hard edge to his voice. "I know ye're trying to figure out yer life, laddie, and it's not easy being chief and all, but… sometimes ye need to follow where nature leads ye."

"Gobber?" Hiccup pleaded with the name.

"Listen, Hiccup, yer Pa would say the same if he were here. Did ye ever see him turn me away? Or anyone for that matter?"

Hiccup shook his head from side to side.

"We're not as thick as ye think we are, lad. We know what's good and what's bad. We know a part don't make the whole, but ye can't have the whole without all the parts… and some parts… just a little different is all."

Hiccup felt something breaking inside of chest. A tear leaked from his eye. Many things he feared to think about let alone admit stormed through his brain. His concept of what a chieftain needed to be came from his father. In the past year he grew terrified he would not be able to live up to the image of Stoick. His father died trying to protect the people from Drago Bludvist.

"There, there, lad."

Goober released his shoulder. A rough, thick thumb wiped away the tear on his cheek. Hiccup leaned into the hand.

"Even before we lost him, Hiccup, Stoick knew we needed different. He looked to ye to be the difference that'd take us in a new direction… a new and better life. Ye delivered, lad, and I know he's proud of all ye are," the man told him with pure conviction oozing in every word.

More tears streamed out of Hiccup's eyes. At times he missed his father so much it made him numb with pain. All his life he tried to live up to what he believed Stoick wanted from him, and it took drastic circumstances to change their relationship for the better. It took a night fury and a battle with a titanic monster for them to see one another's differences, both as people as well as father and son, and appreciate the value in each. In the five years before his father's death, Hiccup learned how entirely valuable Stoick the Vast was to himself and everyone in the village.

"I miss him, too, lad. Not a day goes by where I don't think about what'd he say or what'd he do," Gobber said while patting Hiccup's cheek, and the hurt Hiccup heard in the voice reflected his own. "He left ye large boots… well, boot to fill, and ye've done a good as anyone could've. Maybe better."

Hiccup nodded his thanks, unable to speak due to the constriction in his throat.

"Ye're no go to anyone if ye're no good to yerself. Any pain or misery ye inflict on yerself will only spread to the clan, Hiccup. Ye think ye're in this alone, but ye're not. We don't just follow ye: we back ye up so ye don't fall. It's all of us, lad, and not just yoo! All ye have to do is look 'round to see it's true."

The words battered against Hiccup's preconceptions. It told him to honestly evaluate himself and those in his life. It told him to be fair in all things, just as his father once counseled. He nodded again. Hiccup reached up and placed his hand around the assuring girth of Gobber's wrist. He did not push it away, but held on. No one could deny the realness or solidity of the man. Hiccup could find no words to express his gratitude, save for one small phrase.

"I love you, Gobber," he whispered.

"I know, lad, and ye'd best be certain I feel the same towards ye," the man quietly replied. "Take some time to think 'bout what ye needs to do, and then see to it. The longer ye waits… it won't get easier, and it'll only muck things up all the more. I have faith in ye, Hiccup."

"Thanks," Hiccup croaked the word.

Gobber nodded, and then lowered his hand. The two shared a silent moment together, a moment of pure unspoken understanding. Then Gobber smiled his wide snaggletooth smile. Hiccup could not help but respond in kind. The man turned and faced the double-doors at the end of the hall, and then looked up at the smoke hole in the roof.

"Snow's letting up. Ye might get some flying weather," the stout Viking noted.

"Maybe. Toothless could use a stretch of his wings," the young chief replied.

"We all could."

Gobber then walked away, teeter-tottering between one good leg and one peg leg. Hiccup looked down at his own missing limb. It made him feel good that in some way he also looked like Gobber. He owed the man more than any other person, including his mother. In a few ways, the entire island of Berk owed Gobber a huge debt of gratitude. Who knew what would happen without his steady presence and reassurance.

"You picked a great best friend, Dad," he said while watching the lumpy figure walk toward the doors.

The snow tapered off, but did not end. Flurries, at times blinding, continued for another two days. Berk lay half-buried in the frozen powder. When the sun peaked out on the dawn of the third day, everyone flooded out of doors. Granted, the temperatures still rested far below the freezing point, but the sun warmed hearts just the same. Adults, children, and dragons alike played in the piles of frozen white fluff.

Hiccup and his mother shared a laugh watching Toothless burrow into the snow and tunnel through it like a mole. His ebony head would emerge in places, look around, and then dive back down. A small band of terrible terrors joined into the game of finding the night fury. One would think a dark hide against the white background would be easy to spot, but Toothless could completely vanish. Son and mother guffawed and clapped their hands at the antics of their winged friends. Everywhere across the island one could hear shrieks of laughter as people freed themselves of stir craziness from being cooped up for too long. At the same time, people banded together to remove the vast quantities of snow piled around doors and windows. While having fun, Berk dug itself out.

Jack sat atop a building facing the village square and watched the people play. He took in the sounds of merriment as though he feasted. It sustained him. It called to his purpose in life and made him feel whole. He glanced up at the sky and wondered if Thursar H'rim looked down and enjoyed the view. Jack doubted the immortal did since half the world required his attention. Thus, the Spirit of Fun got to enjoy the laughter and its benefits while leaning back and letting the sun kiss his face. He might be a child of winter, but that did not mean he loved the other elements any less. Hours passed while life renewed itself on Berk.

When the noonday meal came and everyone rushed inside to get warm, Jack flew around looking for places to ply his trade. Few buildings on Berk used windows, so his natural canvas came in short supply. Those windows that did exist already wore a coat of thick hoar frost. Thus, Jack resorted to crafting snow flowers to exercise his skills. Frost ferns on sheets of glass seemed easy in the making compared to sculpting petals from shifting snowflakes. It required an exacting touch, and Jack found he enjoyed the challenge. He did not notice the small band of children who, after having eaten a hearty meal, got leave to enjoy a few more hours of sun and saw the flowers already created. They followed the trail and discovered the spot where Jack worked. Piece by delicate piece he married the flakes together to build the fragile beauties.

"Hello, Isemaler," Jack heard an adult voice say just as he sat back after finishing a piece.

The winter elemental turned his head. Standing above the heads of the rapt children he saw the lanky form of their chieftain. Jack knew himself to be invisible, and he found it interesting the young man would so openly address him. Ever since their disastrous introduction over a week before, Jack did not go back to the chieftain's house and studiously avoided the gaze of dragons. Fortunately, bright sunlight tended to hide him when in insubstantial form from the sharp eyes of the aerial creatures. A quick glance revealed none of the beasts lurked nearby.

"Hello, Hiccup," Jack replied and slowly let himself become half visible.

The children gasped and giggled and whispered in delight that the Spirit of Fun showed himself.

"Isemaler," many of them said in hushed unison.

"You are real," Hiccup quietly stated.

"Did you have any doubt after the last time we met?" Jack returned.

Hiccup held his semi-frightened amazement in check. The children did not appear scared in any manner, and it seemed to indicate the apparition before them mostly benign. In fact, the children sounded positively thrilled by the spectral presence. Thus, the young mortal man kept a grip on his reaction.

"What are you?" Hiccup inquired.

"I was brought to life by a power far from here to bring joy and beauty to winter, so children would not lose hope during the dark days," Jack stated his reason for being as he understood it.

Several of the children grew silent and stared at him in pure wonder.

Hiccup nodded and said: "Fine, that tells me what you do and why you do it, but what, exactly, are you?"

Jack twisted his head to the side as he thought. He studied the young man wrapped in a voluminous cloak, trimmed with fur both at the collar and along the hem. The Spirit of Fun never thought about the question as Hiccup stated it. Given that Thursar H'rim seemed a bit uncertain as to his true physical nature, Jack could not figure out an exact way to explain his being.

"I'm… magic… I think," he said after a few seconds.

"You don't know?" The chieftain murmured with tones of incredulity.

"Do you know what you are?" Jack retorted

The heads of the children swung back and forth from mortal to immortal as they exchanged words.

"I'm a person, human, like these kids."

"Ah, those are labels, but it doesn't tell me what you are," the elemental smugly rejoined.

"Okay, then I'm flesh and blood and bone and hair and muscle and… all the stuff inside that makes me a real person."

Jack blinked in surprise at the quickness of the response. Although he already knew it, the answer served as a reminder the young man facing him possessed an agile and quick mind. The notion came over him that he needed to counter an unspoken assertion and challenge. Jack stood and allowed himself to become more solid. He held his crook in his left hand letting the tip touched the ground and star of ice formed around it.

"I am the wind, the cold, the snow and ice, the low sun and deep shadows of winter made whole," he said to Hiccup and the children. "I am the first snowball throw in a game. I am the winter man built on a hill. I am thrill a child feels while sledding down a hill or sliding across a frozen pond. I am the reason why no one should fear the winter and embrace it as a friend."

Overhead from somewhere a long way off, a ripple of thunder came toward them. Jack heard it as approval for his words. He looked into the open and wide expressions of the children and smiled at them.

"I am Isemaler, as you call me, and Spirit of Fun. Guardian and protector, son of the Man in the Moon charged to watch over you in the heart of the night when the fierce gales howl and the ice cracks," Jack continued, and then he slipped from visibility. "I am here in the winter even when you cannot see me."

Without waiting, he zipped into the sky, laughing with joy. Below numerous sets of dragon eyes watched him disappear into the face of the sun. Jack sailed high until certain even the sharpest of those could not detect him. Wisps of clouds flowed under his feet.

"Thou art a braggart, Isemaler," Thursar H'rim said to him from a long way off.

"Did I lie?" Jack asked, grinning at his own cleverness.

"I compel thee to ensure thou hast not and dost not!"

The presence of Thursar H'rim receded, but the scant words left Jack with the feeling he faced a test. Once again he felt as though the Man in the Moon watched him, that Lord of Winter reported to his creator all Jack did. He considered what he told the children and Hiccup.

"Maybe I did go a little overboard," Jack whispered his confession.

Faint thunder like a chuckle rolled around him.

Far below half a dozen children and one man look around for a sign Isemaler stood among them. Though his traces tended to be faint and scant, even those could not be detected. However, Hiccup's keen eyes saw the footprints in the snow where Isemaler appeared. It told him something very important. One of the children, a young girl, turned to Hiccup with a dark scowl.

"You scared him off!" Mosshair scolded her chieftain.

"Do you really think that is afraid of me?" Hiccup responded and did nothing to hide his disbelief the elemental could be frightened so easily.

Mosshair turned to her friends. They huddled their heads and held a brief debate. Then they all faced the young man. A look of determination sat on their features.

"You heard Isemaler, he came here to look after us… kids," Warty, a sturdy little boy, grunted.

"And what do you think I do every day?" The adult argued back.

"Fly around on Toothless!" Mosshair instantly answered.

"I can't catch a break," Hiccup said with half a laugh.

He patted Mosshair on the head, determined now he would enact new naming guidelines, and left the group of frowning children. As he headed toward his house, he saw several snow flowers and realized Isemaler spent considerable time among them. The trudge through the snow gave him a chance to consider the spirit did not mean them harm since ample opportunity existed for Isemaler to get up to no good. The struggle to climb the steps still buried in white gave him pause. Once on the stoop of the house, Hiccup came to decision.

"I don't think we have anything to fear from him," he said out loud as though it made the declaration official.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	4. Chapter 4

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Four**

by D. O'Shae

Later that evening a very weary Hiccup mounted the same steps. Once the fun ended the dragon riders tended to the sore and strained muscles of dragons lacking sense enough to limit their play. Some over did it to such a degree Valka opted to stay in the dragon cavern overnight to look after the heavily afflicted. Hiccup heard rather than saw Toothless knocking away snow from his entrance on the roof, and then the swing hatch hinges groaned when the dragon opened it and entered the house. Before stepping inside himself, Hiccup waited until he heard the hatch close.

The house felt cool, but not cold. Before heading the cavern that afternoon, both he and his mother laid fires in all of the stoves and narrowly set the flues so the fuel would last. Hiccup made short work of going from stove to stove and the two hearths to stoke the fires and add more blackrock where needed. The dirty, sooty rock would burn pleasantly through the night, lasting at least three times longer than wood alone. By the time he finished, found a scrap of bread to gnaw on, and climbed the stairs to his room, the temperature already neared a pleasant degree. He pulled the chain as he ascended the last step and light spread outward.

A few minutes later Hiccup shucked off his cloak and heavy winter clothing. Loose summer pants and a loose shirt covered his body and protected it from the odd breezes that crept in through cracks. In the meanwhile, Toothless arranged himself in his nest after searing the wood and watched the human with a bored expression. Hiccup went to the dragon and spent a half an hour scratching his companion, despite his sore arms and hands, in all the favorite spots until the beast crooned with happiness. Once the dragon settled, Hiccup went to his desk. Finally, he unstrapped the mechanical peg leg from the stub of lower leg. He rubbed the end where the skin bunched and puckered. He never forgot the events that led to the loss, but it improved relations with his father and opened the way for dragons to coexist with the Berkians.

"Ah-h-h-h," he sighed as he massaged the end of his leg.

Hiccup could not say what he heard first: the small cough or the growl from Toothless. He spun around on the stool. The Spirit of Fun floated over the stairwell. Toothless stood on his feet, growling and keeping track of the semi-transparent figure. The immortal looked from man to dragon and back again.

"Do you think he knows his fire will do nothing to me?" Jack inquired.

"Probably not, but he's going by instinct right now," Hiccup responded and fought down the fear that sparked within him.

"I mean no harm."

"I, ah, finally sort of figured that out, but Toothless doesn't know it yet."

"Is there any way I can prove to him I'm not a threat?" Jack sincerely queried.

"Well… you'd… how solid can you become?" Hiccup replied, thinking back to the footprints he saw in the snow.

"I can be as solid as anyone… as you."

Jack watched as the young man reached down under the end of his desk and retrieved what could only be a crutch. Placing it under his arm, Hiccup stood. Jack noted the peg leg before, but the sheer absence of the appendage made an altogether entirely different impression.

"How did you lose it?" He asked and nodded toward the missing part.

"My leg? Oh, um, Toothless sort of bit it off."

Jack felt his mouth open is utter shock.

"No, no, it's not what you think," Hiccup quickly amended. "He did it by accident while saving my life. They say it was the only way he could stop me from falling to my death."

The translucent elemental nodded his head.

"Honestly, Toothless wouldn't do this to me on purpose. I'd be dead if he didn't."

The dragon's head twitched back and forth from his rider to the floating figure. He gave every appearance he understood he became the subject of discussion. Toothless' eyes remained narrowed and the flexible flat spikes on his head lay flat against his neck. Alert and wary best described his demeanor.

"I need you to… ah, drift over her by me," Hiccup requested as he used the crutch to move away from the desk toward the foot of the bed.

Jack did as asked. Toothless crouched lower and his lips started to curl.

"It's okay, bud. I promise," the dragon rider said in a soothing voice. "He's not going to do anything."

"I won't, but what about him?" Jack inquired from the side of his mouth.

"Just do what I say and it'll alright, okay?"

The white-haired spectral young man gave a curt nod of his head.

"But, ah, can you put your stick down. That might freak Toothless out if you come near me with it"

Although a preposterous gesture since he could call it to himself in an instant, Jack set the staff against the wall nonetheless. He willed it to stay propped up for appearance sake. It gleamed in the light of lamps high on the walls.

"Okay, now stand next to me and make… get… whatever it is you do to become real," Hiccup instructed him.

"I am real," Jack protested. "Do you mean material?"

"Yeah, that."

The closer Jack moved toward Hiccup, the more the dragon growled. The sound filled the room and both of them could physically feel it. The dragon lowered himself even further until he nearly lay down. The pupils of his yellow-green eyes narrowed to slits as the beast focused on the hovering form. Hiccup continually uttered calm words and reassured the dragon. Jack did not truly fear for himself since any fire the dragon launched would pass through him. Hiccup, however, lacked that tactical advantage. The dragon might yet again accidentally hurt his companion.

When Jack reach half an arm's length from Hiccup, he let his feet touch the floor. He stood and directed power through his form. The world changed around him as he transformed into matter and became a solid mass. A board under his feet creaked as weight settled on it. Only a second passed while the process finished.

"Done," Jack announced.

Hiccup looked at him, his left arm partially rising.

"You want to touch me to see if I'm solid, don't you?" He queried.

"Yes, but… I didn't know how to ask," the mortal quipped and patches of red appeared on his cheeks.

"Just ask," the elemental suggested.

"Can I touch you?"

"Go ahead," Jack gave permission.

Haltingly, slowly, and with caution Hiccup continued to raise his arm. Toothless continued to growl. The Spirit of Fun continued to eye both. The young chieftain stopped when he reached the center point of Jack's chest, then he extended his arm and two fingers. By the count of three his fingertips made contact. Hiccup's eyes widened.

"You're… cold," he said in a muted voice.

"Did you forget who I am?" Jack teased. Whenever he materialized, the effort produced an endothermic reaction in the air significantly lowering the temperature in and around him. However, he changed the flow of energies in his body, directing them toward the surface.

"Wha… how?" Hiccup breathed, startled when the body under his fingers suddenly grew warm. He then laid his hand flat against the chest of the elemental. He got another unexpected shock in the steady beat he detected with his palm. "A heartbeat, but…. What are you?"

Jack, for his part, kept his attention focused on the dragon. The creature clearly did not like what happened in front of him and seemed ready to pounce. Now solid, it seemed more threatening than ever. He knew he could feel pain in this form.

"Ah, Hiccup… Toothless," he urged the chieftain.

"Right, right," Hiccup said and snapped out of his contemplation. He angled his body so he faced the dragon. "Toothless, this is a friend. You are a friend, right?"

Jack vigorously nodded his head. The feeling of hair swirling about on his head felt foreign. Of late there came little reason for Jack to attain complete solidity. Simply becoming visible enchanted the children. Thus, his corporeal form felt a bit burdensome and unfamiliar.

"Okay, now hold out your arm and show Toothless your palm… fingers up," the dragon rider told him.

The elemental carried out the instructions, his arm felt ridiculously heavy. Jack tried to hold it as steady as he could while flexing his fingers until they stood upright.

"Good, now slowly walk forward and aim your hand for his nose."

"You mean near the opening that bit off your leg?"

"He won't bite!" Hiccup rumbled.

"Promise?" Jack demanded.

Hiccup did not reply, and he used his left hand to push against Jack's back. Jack noted the lack of promise, but allowed himself to be guided forward. The brief contact between his back and the mortal hand sent a small thrill through his system. People rarely touched him. Toothless never stopped growling, his eyes fixed solely on Jack, and his body tensed and ready for action. For the first time since meeting Thursar H'rim and understanding the awesome power of the immortal, Jack felt real mortal fear. It stunned him to think he suffered a pure human reaction. Part of his mind secretly delighted in the fact he retained some contact with his humanity. When he got within a foot of the now terrifying creature, Hiccup stopped pushing.

"Good. Right. Now close your eyes," the mortal human instructed.

"Are you out of your mind?" Jack hissed, but did not break eye contact with the dragon.

"It shows trust to dragons. He'll respond to it. I swear!"

"Respond how? With a snap of his jaws?"

"Just do it!" The dragon rider commanded.

Jack inhaled hard against the terror bubbling in his stomach. On some level he knew his reaction to be irrational since he would instantly switch to an immaterial state should anything happen. Yet at the same time he felt completely human, and a sensation he nearly forgot. Thus, at war with his human instincts, he forced his eyes shut. The world disappeared around him. Tremors rippled through his body. Jack stared to count. When he reached eight, twin jets of very hot breath blasted against his hand. Jack froze, but not in his traditional sense. His body became paralyzed as he waited for the jaws of death to try and chew his arm off. When he reached the count of fifteen, something warm and pliable filled his palm. His eyes flicked open.

Toothless pressed his snout into Jack's outstretched hand, and the dragon eyes were closed as well. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. The dragon opened it eyes, and the menacing glare of threat did not appear. Cautious curiosity, if Jack read the look correctly, now rested in the orbs. Toothless gradually eased his head away, never taking his eyes off Jack.

"Well done, Isemaler," Hiccup said in a congratulatory manner as he would to one of his denser clan members. "Thanks, bud!"

Toothless snorted, blowing another wave of hot breath against Jack's extended hand. The dragon stepped back, and then sat upright in the middle of the nest. The yellow-green eyes continued to watch the elemental young man.

"As long as you don't try anything stupid against me for the time being, you should be safe with him," the dragon rider stated.

"Should be?" Jack repeated, focusing on the operative words.

"Well, it is a dragon after all."

"We don't have dragons where I come from, so this is new to me," the elemental confessed.

Hiccup hopped backward until his leg hit the edge of the bed and he sat down. Jack turned to face the young man, and then just folded his legs up until he assumed a cross-legged sitting position in mid-air. Hiccup blinked at him.

"Just because I'm solid doesn't mean I don't have my powers," Jack informed the expression.

"How do you do that?" Hiccup inquired. It made sense the figure could float when immaterial, but now having gained substantial form it seemed impossible to the Viking.

"Near as I can figure… see, there all types of energies around us all the time," Jack launched into the explanation with gusto. He spent time researching his powers when on his home world, and he believed he found answers. "There's heat and light, but they're sort of related. Magnetism is another one. Electricity… like lightning. Just different energies. See? Some of 'em are harder to figure out and use. I think when I became a Guardian… well, before that, but still the same… when I turned into what I am, I can somehow use these energies. People call it magic, but… I don't think that's what it really is. It's just an ability I have, and a bunch of others, too; we can channel and control these powers… energies."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hiccup mumbled, his head reeling from the rapid explanation. "Something about powers and energy… and others. There are others like you?"

"Sure. You've even got a bunch here."

"Why do you keep saying here and there like they're two different places?"

"'Cause they are."

Hiccup stared at the floating young man. Jack frowned a bit. He felt he owed a full accounting of how he came to Halla and Berk to Hiccup. The need to communicate and connect with another actually compelled him. He sighed and did not know what to do. Jack also remembered Thursar H'rim last edict.

"It's kind of a long story," he told the young chieftain.

"I think I'm awake enough to pay attention," Hiccup replied, and he spoke the truth.

"Okay, it's like this: the there where I am from isn't even on this world," Jack began, and Hiccup's eyes went wide.

For nearly an hour Jack explained how he arrived on Berk, and that involved revealing his role on Earth as a Guardian. Describing the workings of a trans-dimensional gateway proved tricky, and he finally called it a magical portal. At one point he reached out and summoned his staff. Toothless growled a short warning. Jack told how the crook helped extend and focus his abilities and the powers he drew upon. Hiccup paid close attention and only asked questions when he truly did not understand. The tale he heard defied even his expansive imagination, yet he found no reason to doubt what Isemaler stated. After all, a fully solid person floated three feet off the floor in front of him. Plus he also watched the being disappear on at least two occasions.

"Let me see if I understand this," Hiccup interrupted at one point. "There's a Lord of Winter who's letting you borrow power so you can figure out a way to go home?"

"More or less. He likes how I make people view winter. As long as I do that, I can work on trying to get back," Jack told him.

Hiccup nodded and then said: "There's one part I still don't get. How did you… become this Guardian being in the first place?"

Jack glanced down at the floor. When he became a Guardian, he finally got a decent portion of his childhood memories back while fighting Pitch Black. He could remember how and why he died, and how the Man in the Moon raised him from the dark depths of the pond. Other details, however, remained lost or obscured because his baby teeth did not fully encode all memories and only important events.

"I died, Hiccup. I drowned, but I'm not certain I died all the way when the Man in the Moon lifted me out of the lake," he quietly replied. "I used to have brown hair, and my skin wasn't always this white. The Man did this… and he made me this so I could be a Guardian."

"Wow," Hiccup said, just like he heard Jack say several times. "Something brought you back from the dead, Isemaler."

"Jack," Jack instinctively corrected due to the number of times he and Bunny annoyed one another.

"Pardon?"

"Jack. My name is Jack. I'm called Jack Frost back on my world because of what I do. You're people, the children, named me Isemaler… and Thursar H'rim liked it and said that would be my name here."

"Okay, Jack it is, but I've got another question. Is this Thursar H'rim," and Jack noted the natural way Hiccup said the name, "Thor?"

"I don't think so. Actually, I don't really know. What I do know is he's one of the most powerful entities I ever met," Jack confessed. "And to be on the safe side, call me Isemaler when other people are around. They already know me by that name."

"They think you're a child's imaginary friend."

"Do you think I'm imaginary?"

"No, I don't. Plus Toothless thinks you're real."

The dragon grumbled upon hearing his name. It became clear to Jack that Hiccup trusted Toothless' instincts and judgments without question. Therein lay a whole history the elemental young man wanted to learn. Thus, he decided to take advantage of the moment.

"Now, can I ask you something?" Jack inquired.

"Sure, after everything you told me, I guess I owe you," Hiccup retorted.

"Thanks, so, um, how did you become chief? You're kind of young, you know."

Hiccup sighed and began: "Well, after I lost my leg, the people of Berk accepted dragons as our friends."

Jack sat entranced while Hiccup told him about life on the island, the other dragon riders who formed the core of his friends, and the dangers that sailed the seas. He explained how he shot Toothless out of the sky, almost permanently grounding the flying beast, and how it led to his discovering not all dragons proved to be ruthless killers. The story of the final battle with the Red Death and the loss of Hiccup's leg captivated Jack. Naturally, Hiccup briefly told about Alvin the Treacherous and the Outcasts, Dagur the Deranged, Mildew, and other enemies. While Hiccup's world abounded in perils of the human variety, it appeared not all dragons could be counted as friends. Jack heard about various species that would just as soon wipe out Berk as to join with it. The immortal saw life on Berk a hard endeavor, but the lethality took him by surprise. Finally, he witnessed the immense sadness of Hiccup as he related his father's death at the hands of Drago Bludvist and how it led to his becoming chief. The personal cost to the young Viking seemed overwhelming.

"I'm sorry," Jack whispered when Hiccup fell silent.

"No, no: it happened before you ever got here, Jack. We endure. My Dad said our greatest strength lay in our ability to go on no matter what happens. We're Vikings: it's an occupational hazard," the young man said as if repeating the last line from rote.

Green eyes met blue, and for a moment they each saw something of himself in the other, as Jack suspected. Hiccup made sense to him: everything about the young man's hard and at times tragic life simply accentuated the inherent good in Hiccup. Moreover, Hiccup persevered in the face of great personal loss and took on a monumental task that would crush a lesser person. In the same vein, Hiccup viewed Jack as a marvel of real endurance. He could not imagine what it would be like to lose one's life, only to have it returned with heavy burden attached it. Yet Jack did not see his duty as a burden, and Hiccup admired if not envied that aspect. Then the fact the young Guardian became separated from his world and still did not lose hope made the Viking view some of his woes as petty. Silently, they regarded one another as testaments of real inner strength.

"Jack?" Hiccup gently said the name.

The hovering young man looked up.

"I think you need friends, and you can count me as one of them," Hiccup firmly stated. "If what you said is true and our world can't keep you alive, then you need to get back to yours. I'll help you anyway I can. That's a promise."

"Thank you, Hiccup," Jack said and felt his voice catch. He paused for a moment before saying: "I don't know how much power I have here, but… I'll watch over you and your people as best I can. I'll protect the children of Berk, Hiccup. I have to."

For only the second time since arriving on Halla, Jack felt energies crackle and spark along the length of the crook sitting in his lap. Small ice crystals and snowflakes swirled on the edges of the wood and drifted out into the air around him. A strange smile spread on Hiccup's face when he saw the display. For a brief second, Jack saw the wonder of a child in the young man's eyes. The elemental young man felt joy, and smiled in return.

They continued to talk as night wore on. At one point Hiccup lay back and fell asleep as quick as lightning. Jack could remember being exhausted after fighting magical creatures that would do harm to children, but he could not remember sleep such as he saw Hiccup enter. The Viking chieftain fell deeply asleep and did not respond to Jack's repeated hailing. Knowing the risk regarding the dragon, he went to Hiccup and picked him up. As if on cue, Toothless lifted his head and issued a low, fierce growl.

"I'm just putting him to bed," Jack told the stalwart beast.

Toothless never took his eyes off of the elemental while he slipped the human under the covers. Jack arranged the blankets and pillows so Hiccup looked comfortable. When he finished, he sailed over to the dragon and faced it eye-to-eye.

"I know you're loyal and protective," he said to the dragon in a clear, steady voice, "but I promise you I will never harm Hiccup. I won't harm any of the people here… or you or any of your kind, Toothless. You have my word as Guardian."

Toothless stared at Jack as though weighing his words. After a few seconds, the dragon snorted once. Then he lowered his head and covered it over with a wing. Jack took it as a sign the beast understood, perhaps not the words specifically but at least the intent. With that, he shifted to his immaterial form and shot silently through the roof into the night sky. Jack wanted to find a good spot where he could look out over the island.

Many attributed the change in everyone's demeanor, specifically their chieftain, to the sunlight from the day before. Even after the skies turned gray and the snow returned, Hiccup remained enthusiastic and pleasant as the days wore on. More than a few began to wonder if their young chief might have crumbled his crackers, especially when they caught him talking to himself. However, his leadership continued without mishap. Hiccup's plans proved sound and well thought out. Furthermore, he met every villager demand and request with grace and humor. By the end of the seven-day, Hiccup began to make his people nervous with his cheerful and upbeat attitude.

Hiccup thought himself alone in the dragon cavern when his friends surrounded him. Astrid, dressed in winter gear that looked surprisingly like her summer attire except for the long cloak, stepped forward. She pushed him with one hand until his back hit a wall. Then he received the baleful glare of five sets of eyes. He tried to simultaneously look at them all, and it made his head swim.

"Okay, out with it, Hiccup. What's up with you?" Astrid demanded.

"Nothing is up with me," he tersely replied.

"No, no, no," Ruffnut said. "You've been happy lately, and that ain't like you."

Tuffnut nodded his head and chimed in: "I know. Usually you're all dark and depressed about something. I like that."

"It's a little scary the way you've been acting lately," Fishlegs added.

"I think you lost your flipping mind," Snotlout completed the litany with a murky grin.

Hiccup examined each and every face as they spoke. He saw sincere concern, except Snotlout hinted he might be please if the chieftain went insane. The cornered young man held up his hands as if that could keep the five at bay.

"I just been figuring out things for myself… and looking at everything from a different point of view. I'm trying to be positive for once," Hiccup said, thinking he rationally explained himself.

"That's just… weird," Ruffnut muttered. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Just proof he's gone bonkers," Snotlout replied.

"We live on an island in the middle of the ocean where it snows more days than actually exist. I'm tired of always being down about it, so… I changed my mind," the young chieftain told them and tried to remain neutral.

"Changed it into what?" Tuffnut inquired.

"Not into something else, just what he's thinking, I think," the sister informer her brother.

"Oh, that's makes sense, I guess."

"Can it you two," Astrid turned on her co-conspirators, and then to the one she conspired against. "It's more than just that, Hiccup. You've been talking to yourself an awful lot lately, and that's got me worried. It's like you're actually having a conversation with somebody who isn't there!"

Hiccup, grateful he wore his winter flying leathers, felt the coolness of the rock wall seeping through the material and wool lining. He hoped it would help him maintain a straight face. Privately he wanted to commend Astrid for guessing the truth, but an explanation of Jack would be required. Hiccup felt that would violate Jack's confidence in him.

"Why would my being happy worry you that much?" He tried to turn the topic around.

"Because the last time you acted this way, you showed up with a night fury for a friend," she retorted.

"Well, there was that," Hiccup mumbled.

"Hiccup, we just want to make sure you're not masking what's really going on… if something is going on, and I'm saying there is," Fishlegs said and tried to sound amicable. "But you kind of take on too much sometimes."

Four heads nodded in agreement. Hiccup shrugged. He could not think of a way to further explain himself that would not lead them to believe he did go insane or force his new friend into revealing himself when he might not wish it. In the past he proved an agile thinker in tight situations, so he let his mind range free and said the first thing it offered.

"Do you trust me?" He asked the assembled.

No one answered.

"Oh, so you don't trust me," Hiccup followed up and sounded disappointed.

"No, it's not that. We trust you," Astrid responded. "But that's not the point."

"It's exactly the point, Astrid. Right now each of you is looking at me like you have to protect me from myself. That means you don't trust me, and my being too happy and maybe talking to myself too often is the only excuse you've got," he laid out his reasoning and let his vocal timbre drop. "I thought you'd come up with something better than that. I thought we were friends"

One by one the faces fell. Hiccup knew he scored. He also knew the weakest link in their unified front. Gradually he focused on Fishlegs. It only took to a count of ten before the barrel-shaped young man began to squirm on his feet. Hiccup started a countdown in his head. He never made it to zero.

"Hiccup, we're… worried… and… and…" Fishlegs stammered and Hiccup said zero in his head. "It's all her fault. Astrid's the one who said something is wrong with you. She bullied us into doing this. I like you happy!"

"Fishlegs!" Astrid exclaimed with considerable outrage.

Fishlegs, however, did not back down now that the truth came out. He faced the infuriated young woman and appeared to be building up a head of self-righteous indignation. The largest member of the group opened his mouth and said: "Don't yell at me! I didn't want to do this in the first place, Astrid, but you kept on pushing and pushing and pushing until you got your way. I'm sick of it. If Hiccup can manage to be happy and you're not the cause of it, so what? What's the problem with that?"

"Oh, no," Snotlout said under his breath.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut took a step back and suddenly found something in the ceiling very interesting.

Hiccup and everyone else knew the dragon slipped out of the cage. He stared at young woman while processing what Fishlegs revealed. Instead of becoming angry, as unreal sense of calm settled in his brain. Gobber's words came back to him.

"Is that what this is about, Astrid: us?" Hiccup calmly inquired, and that made Fishlegs even more visibly nervous. "You had to drag everyone else into our private business? Why?"

Astrid's mouth opened, but not a sound came out. The young chieftain looked into her eyes and saw real fear lurking in the depths. He did not need Astrid to explain her actions, but he wanted to hear her say it. Logically it seemed better if she did.

"Guys, um, can you give us a minute…" Astrid began to say.

"No, stay," Hiccup quickly countered her. "You got them involved, and they have a right to know the real reasons. It's only fair."

A hard glint sprang into the young woman's eyes and anger warred with fear. Hiccup did not flinch in the face of her changing emotion. Granted Astrid angry could be frightening, but not when she chose to be duplicitous. Then her anger appeared self-serving and an empty threat.

"I thought you said this was our private business?" Astrid snapped in return.

"It was 'til you got them to gang up on me with you," he returned the argument. "What did you say them to help you trap me like this? You didn't know what was wrong. I wouldn't talk to you. You couldn't figure what was happening to me. Huh? Which one was it?"

"Kind of all of them," Fishlegs quipped since he possessed almost no ability to lie to people. "And there is that whole talking to yourself thing, but I'm okay with that since I do it all time, too."

"That's for the support, Fishlegs," the leader of the conspiracy sniped.

"Fishlegs, thank you," Hiccup stated with sincere gratitude. "I can always count on you for the truth, so… thanks for the support."

The hulking young man's face twisted and turned as each spoke. His visage went from anxious to relieved depending on who did the speaking. When Hiccup finished, Fishlegs nodded his blond head and the set of his faced hardened as glanced back at Astrid. No one needed to say she lost Fishlegs as an ally for the moment.

"Astrid, why?" Hiccup begged the question without any hostility.

She looked him in the eye, and then sagged a bit before saying: "You used to come to me when something bothered you or you couldn't figure out a plan or… you needed comfort. You don't do that anymore, Hiccup. It's like I don't matter to you. I thought we…."

She stopped and cast her gaze downward. Hiccup did not want her publicly humiliated, so he made eye contact with each of their friends. Fishlegs got the message immediately and left the group. It took several jerks of his head to show the twins which way they needed to go. They did. Finally, Hiccup locked eyes with Snotlout. The contentious young Viking raised an eyebrow.

"What? I want to hear this," he said as if perplexed he needed to provide a reason.

"Snotlout, please, this is just between us now. You're just waiting to see whatever damage gets done," Hiccup chastised him.

"Yeah, so?"

The clan chieftain rolled his eyes, shook his head, and said in his most commanding voice: "Go away, Snotlout. It's not any of your business anymore."

"But, Hiccup, you said we have a right…"

"GO!"

Snotlout grumbled to himself and scowled, but he did start to walk toward the far end of the cavern. No one needed to say Hiccup's intelligence vastly outstripped Snotlout's. The cave's parabolic dimensions meant that if one stood anywhere in the upside bowl of the cavern, voices, even whispers, could be clearly heard throughout. Hiccup grabbed Astrid's hand and dragged her into one of the supply rooms. He did not fully close the door, but enough so the acoustic properties got nullified. Hiccup then focused on his friend.

"Astrid…" he began.

"What happened to us, Hiccup?" She cut into whatever he planned on saying. "Everything seemed to be going so well until last year when your dad…"

Astrid halted and appeared to realize the uncouth nature of her impending sentence. It did not cause umbrage in her audience.

"Died," Hiccup finished for her without acrimony. "Everything… changed on that day, Astrid. Everything. Since then, I've had to figure out who I am… what I want… what I can and can't do. It hasn't been easy."

"But I thought we… us… you didn't have to worry about us, did you? I didn't change. Nothing I felt… feel is different," Astrid implored him with both words and eyes.

"But I am. When Gothi made me chief, it started right then."

"What started?"

He looked at her. Despite Gobber's insistence this must be done, it did not make finding the words easy. Moreover, Hiccup knew the truth would deeply wound Astrid. He wanted to avoid bringing her pain, but saw the outcome as inescapable.

"I had to look at myself. I had to be honest. I couldn't fake being a chieftain, Astrid… at least not with the memory of my dad in everyone's head. I tried to be him… but that's not me, and I had to find out why," Hiccup told her with a growing sense of unease as he neared the truth.

"Hiccup, I don't understand what you mean. No one expected you to be Stoick. They expected you to be… you. This doesn't make sense to me," she rejoined and seized his arm.

"I guess it wouldn't, not from where you're standing."

"Why?"

He gazed into her pleading eyes. Anger got subsumed by anxiety and worry. Hiccup felt bad for her, but he could not unmake himself. Since talking with Gobber and hearing his counsel, the walls in his head fell apart. The carefully arranged compartmentalization collapsed as easily if Snotlout and Tuffnut constructed it. All his life Hiccup felt different from the rest of the Vikings. His brain and size only masked the real reason. Misery and unhappiness resulted. Even worse, Hiccup's continued efforts to run from himself jeopardized not only his chiefdom, but the people as well. Since meeting Isemaler, and he reminded himself to call the unusual person Jack, he saw a true example of courage and fortitude. Jack faced a second death by being trapped in their world and never flinched from the reality of his situation. Hiccup knew he must do the same if he planned on living even with just himself.

"You're one of my best friends, Astrid," he started.

"Best friends?" Astrid snapped out the words in seeming disbelief. "Just best friends?"

Hiccup opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded his head.

"Who?" Astrid demanded. "Who is it? What girl got her hooks into you? Broomhilde? Meatfeet? Pustalia? Who?"

"None of them. It's not a girl, Astrid, I swear!"

"Who is it then?" She all but yelled in his face.

"It's… not… a… girl… or… a… woman," Hiccup enunciated each word carefully and slowly. "It never was. Ever!"

Her eyebrows drew together in fury, but as they began to weave together to form a weapon, they untwisted as crawled up her forehead. Astrid gaped at Hiccup. Her face went slack in shock. He watched realization dawn in her eyes.

Her mouth went up and down a few times before Astrid managed to say: "But you… me… we… you always acted like…"

"When have I ever not tried to live up to people's expectations?" He replied to her fragmented assertion.

"But we kissed… and you seemed…"

"Expectations again," Hiccup repeated and felt ashamed.

Astrid frowned and a dangerous gleam entered he eyes.

"Remember when I was little and I tried to be the Viking I thought my father wanted me to be?"

"No, this is not the same, Hiccup," she ground the words out between clenched teeth. "All this time you led me on…"

"Because I was begging Odin to let it change me, Astrid! I thought if maybe I went through the motions that it would become a habit…"

"You thought I'd be a habit… like training with an axe?" Astrid shrieked the question.

"No, no," he stammered and tried to run his hands through his chestnut-colored hair as if that would straighten out the situation. "This is going all wrong."

"Wrong? Now I'm wrong? Our relationship is wrong?"

Something in her response hit Hiccup and totally aggravated him. His feelings of guilt and shame started to alter. Astrid beat him up when he tried to be honest because it did not meet her expectations. However, she left one part out the whole equation, and it made him feel slightly abused. Anger erupted in his gut.

"What relationship?" Hiccup hollered into her face. "Your relationship with me? The part where you get to decide what it all means and who gets to be in what role. That relationship? The one where I'm just an accessory to your plans?"

"At least I'm not the one pretending to be something I'm not!" She spat.

Hiccup heard innumerable recriminations in her heated retort. His anger flattened into an emotion he never experienced in his life. He could find no word to describe it, but it led him to say things he never thought he would.

"You are an awful person, Astrid," he coldly spoke and stared directly into her eyes. "You push people around, unfairly demand things, and then get upset when you don't get your way. I thought you were my friend, and that's where I was really wrong. You're a disappointment."

Rage started to flood her face, but it transmogrified when Hiccup started walking and pushed past her. He walked out of the supply closet into the cavern. Astrid trotted after him.

"That's it? You're disappointed?" She railed. "What about me? What about the fact I waited for you all these years and now you're going to go flouncing after the first man who flashes a smile at you? Talk about disappointment!"

Hiccup turned and faced her. He felt nothing: no anger, no fear, and not even regret.

"That's right. Keep it going. It's all about you and what you want and think you deserve, Astrid," he calmly said. "You know what? I'm glad this is what I am 'cause it means I don't have to put up with a lifetime of you. I never understood freedom, but I do now."

Hiccup turned and continued to head for the exit tunnel.

"Come back here! We're not done! This is far from over!"

He ignored her screams and moved up the stone ramp toward the door, the light, and what felt like freedom.

"Hiccup! You can't leave me standing here. Not like this! Not alone!"

Hiccup pushed on the wooden barrier. A hinge at the top along with a rope, pulley, and weight system made the door swing upward. It allowed it to be opened after a heavy snowfall. Hiccup pushed it. The door went up. He stepped out into the gray light of the day. Astrid stopped yelling. He heard her cry. Hiccup felt nothing as he gave the door behind him another shove and lowered back down.

"Freedom," he whispered to himself, yet it felt like defeat.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	5. Chapter 5

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Five**

by D. O'Shae

Jack heard the whispers first before he understood what occurred. He found a place off the main square where he could make snow flowers with two children watching. A new game emerged in the village whereby the children tried to find where the invisible artist secreted himself and plied his craft. Jack never chose too hidden of a location. That afternoon he worked while incorporeal and invisible, guiding the snowflakes with tiny bursts of magic. He neared completion on a flower he recalled seeing on his home world but never learned the name. Then Jack heard the talk.

"I guess he said it right out loud… or maybe she did," the voice of woman who strolled by with a friend said in guarded tones. "I don't know which, but… well, people always thought something was little off with Hiccup, and now we know."

"Do you think it makes him a bad chief?" The other woman asked.

"Hmmm. Hard to say. He did get us ready for winter, and the dragons are doing okay."

"Valka and the other riders do a lot of that now."

"True, but Hiccup did train them and he does make those interesting gadgets and things," the first woman replied.

"Yes, he does," the second agreed. "But what about children?"

Jack lost the thread of their conversation since a building blocked their voices. He sat looking at the flower nearly done, and found it no longer seemed important. He stood and floated into the sky. Jack looked down and saw the children staring at the unfinished work as though they could will it completion. The elemental settled back down onto the ground and picked up where he left off. It did not sound like Hiccup faced mortal danger, and Jack did have a responsibility to his calling. It took the invisible Guardian more than a few quick minutes to complete the petals on the flower he finally remembered as a mum.

"There. What do you think?" He asked the two children who stayed through the process.

"Pretty," the young girl replied. He body appeared wrapped head to foot in a single long scarf and only her face showed. Jack thought about mummies on his world when she asked: "How come they don't last long?"

Children never took issue with talking to the empty air, and it made him grin.

"It's just snowflakes. See?" Jack whispered to them. "They're as delicate as dream and the slightest wind can undo them."

"That's why Isemaler finds places like this," announced the boy dressed in multiple layers of pants and sweaters and who looked suspiciously a like the girl. "It's out of the wind."

"That's exactly right."

The boy beamed from the praise.

"We all know that," the girl dismissively rejoined.

They started bickering about who knew what when, and it confirmed their sibling status. Jack left them to their arguing and sailed up over the houses. The snippet of overheard conversation replayed in his mind. Leading with his crook, Jack flew toward the residence of the chief. Several people milled about on the path leading to the house, and that alone marked the moment as unique. He sailed around to the back, then up and through the wall. Jack emerged just above the head of Hiccup's bed.

Toothless raised his head, and grunted in way that sounded like he mumbled 'Oh, it's just you.' The dragon laid his head down and resumed staring at his rider. Jack flew around and sat weightless on the drafting table. He became partially visible.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," the young man grumped. "Heard the gossip, did you?"

"If you mean about Sledgehead's sheep having a three-headed lamb, then, yes, I am current on recent events," Jack answered.

"What?" Hiccup said while sitting up. "That didn't happen."

"I think you forget I mostly hear the rumors from children. They're not always accurate," the half-visible other young-looking man stated.

Jack grinned, but Hiccup did not reciprocate. He saw clouds of serious worry in the green eyes, and it put him on alert. Hiccup wore his riding pants and boot, along with his winter peg leg, but his jacket lay on the floor leaving him dressed in a thin wool shirt on his torso. It appeared he spent considerable time lying on his bed.

"Hiccup, is there a problem?" Jack gently inquired.

"Other than my life being completely wrecked, then no. Why do you ask?" Hiccup sarcastically complained.

"Well, I did hear something on the streets…"

"Oh, gods! It made it that far already?"

This dismay in his friend's voice took Jack by surprise, and he replied: "I didn't hear much except that people are a little concerned over a new development about you… and I didn't hear what that was."

Hiccup responded by dragging a pillow over his face. Jack floated upward, and then over to his friend. He decided on a brazen course, assumed a supine position, and then lowered his face through the pillow. Seconds later he stared eyeball-to-eyeball at Hiccup.

"Ah! What…!" Hiccup yelled and sat up.

Toothless did as well, letting out a small roar. Jack now completely intersected Hiccup at the chest level, and it made him feel very, very strange. Suddenly the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs echoed around them, and Jack quickly disappeared.

"Hiccup, are you alright?" Valka asked, panicked.

"Do you realize that's always the first question you ask when you come up here?" Hiccup tartly responded.

"You've been yelling a lot lately and scaring Toothless and I don't want to be trapped in a house fire!"

Hiccup's cheeks turned red, he ducked his head, and said: "Oh, ah, sorry."

Valka eyed her son and said: "And I know you're not alright."

"Thanks for the support, Mom," he semi-sarcastically rejoined.

"That's not what I mean, Hiccup, and you know it," she shot right back.

Hiccup let his head drop to his chest, feeling defeated. Valka finished her climb up the stairs, and sat next to her son on the bed. Mother, like son, tended to wear flying attire all the time. For Valka, she spent over twenty years always being prepared to jump on a dragon back at a moment's notice. Old habits die hard. She reached out and rubbed her son's back.

"This'll work out. You'll see," she calmly and confidently told him. "You've done too much for everyone for them to ever think differently about you… at least in the long-term."

"And in the short-term?" He asked.

"Time, Hiccup, all they need is time to adjust to this new facet. When the next emergency comes or someone does something incredibly stupid, and it'll probably be the twins, and you show up to fix it; they'll accept this as normal and move on. It's just new to them is all," Valka counseled her son.

Jack, hovering invisibly over Hiccup's bureau, intently listened. He still did not know the central issue, but it seemed personally significant for the young chieftain. One thing slowly dawned in his mind: he could not protect his friend from every crisis as this showed. An event occurred Jack never heard about and now he hastily needed to put the pieces together. He hoped Valka would come right out and state it.

"You ride a night fury, son, and no one wants to be on the wrong side of that," his mother continued and added a humorous tone to her voice.

"Mom, I would never, ever set Toothless against anyone in Berk!" Hiccup said, horrified at the suggestion. Jack felt the same.

Toothless raised his head and let out with a defensive grunt.

"Well, at least I can say your head and heart are in the right place. That means you're no different now than you were yesterday, the day before that, and since who knows how long."

"It's completely different, and you know it."

Valka shook her head from side to side and said: "No, I don't know that. Only you think that. Yes, maybe with simple things you are different, but what you are inside… the important stuff, it's not different. You're still the same Hiccup everyone depends on. They know that, and so do you."

Hiccup looked skeptically at his mother. She placed her free hand on his cheek and turned his face so they looked directly at one another. Jack felt a pang of jealousy.

"Time, son. A few days, maybe a week, and you'll see it go back to normal. Life's too hard here to worry about who someone loves or why. Chief or no chief, Hiccup: you're entitled to happiness as well. You've earned it more than anybody."

Hiccup reacted by throwing his arms around his mother and squeezing her tight. Jack saw two tears streak down his friend's cheeks, and the jealousy vaporized. The young Viking faced a trying issue, and it already wore on him. After a long while of soaking in his mother's comfort, Hiccup released her and sat back. She smiled at him.

"Thanks, Mom," Hiccup said in voice made thick by emotion.

"I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. Maybe I'm just reminding you," she said. "Are you hungry? I can put some stew on."

"I'm not really hungry now," he declined.

"Well, I'll put something in the swing pot so you can eat when you're ready."

The woman stood and gazed down at her son.

"You're a handsome, intelligent man, Hiccup, and anyone would be happy to be paired with you. Whoever he is, he just doesn't know how lucky he is yet," she said.

Jack sat staring in wonder at the news while Hiccup quipped: "You're only saying that 'cause you're my mother."

"Maybe," Valka replied with a chuckle. "But that doesn't mean it's any less true. It won't be long before some man sees what most of us see and wants it all to himself."

Hiccup waved her away with a hand while his face turned bright red. Valka chuckled again and departed the room. When sounds emerged from the galley down below a minute later, Hiccup looked to his dragon.

"Where is he, bud?" He quietly asked.

Toothless looked directly at Jack. Since he could not hide from the gaze of the dragon, and it formed a mystery he wanted to solve, Jack floated over to the drafting table and assumed full visibility. Hiccup looked at white-haired young man wearing the blue sweater with a hood attached, a sensible design he thought, and the brown britches. Jack never wore shoes. Moreover, he always wore the same outfit day in and day out. Hiccup decided the items could not be clothes in any real sense and perhaps a magical artifact of sorts. The two young men glanced at one another.

"Now you know," the Viking said to the outlander.

"And…?" Jack replied.

"And what? What do you think?"

"I think your mother is right, Hiccup."

Hiccup's eyebrows drew closer together.

"I'm a Guardian, Viking, and I don't judge on what someone is. I judge on what they do, and that determines what I have to do at times," Jack answered the expression.

"So, you don't think… something is wrong with me?" Hiccup pressed the point while staring at the floating figure.

"Let me ask you this: Do you think something is wrong with you?"

Hiccup stopped moving. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"I… no, it doesn't feel wrong, if that's what you mean," Hiccup replied after half a minute of silence.

Jack floated down and sat on the foot of the bed facing his friend. He laid his staff on the bed behind his back. The dragon harrumphed and flopped onto his nest for another nap. The elemental thought for a moment, and a memory sprang to mind.

"After I became a Guardian, I got to ask the others questions," Jack began and felt the moment come over him with same magnitude when it first happened. "I asked Santa how he determines who goes on the nice or naughty list. He told me it's what's in the heart and mind that makes the choice. He said some actions mean nothing while others mean everything. Sometimes inaction speaks the loudest, but Santa said it's always the intent that's important. So tell me, Hiccup, have your intentions changes?"

Hiccup did not know who or even what Santa could be, but his words displayed wisdom as profound as any he ever heard. It also gave him insight into how his mystical friend approached his duty and his life for that matter. The message sank into his mind, and he nodded.

"I have to keep my people and dragons safe no matter what they think of me," Hiccup told the Guardian.

"Then that's all I need to know. That's all anyone needs to know," Jack solemnly stated.

They sat in silence for a minute. Jack recalled the lesson Santa imparted to him and how it affected his method of operation. It made him a better Guardian because it informed him what he needed to guard. In the same vein, Hiccup sat appreciating the magical being sitting on his bed. He worried at one point what Jack would think or how he would respond. The young chieftain realized he found something more than acceptance: he found an example of real friendship. He swallowed against the emotions it generated in him. Hiccup regretted that he ever feared Jack. He decided the time arrived to make private amends.

"I owe you an apology, Jack," he said in a quiet voice. "I unfairly judged you when you first got here, and I was afraid of what you might do."

"I know," Jack answered, "and you don't have to apologize for it. You and your people never saw my kind before, so how could you know what I would do?"

"But I didn't even give you a chance…"

"We're sitting here talking now," the Spirit of Fun interrupted, "so I'd say you gave me more than a chance after all. You showed me how to gain a dragon's trust and that… huge, Hiccup. Really huge!"

Hiccup nodded and asked: "Now, do you want to know why I showed you that?"

"Because if I couldn't get your dragon to trust me, it would tell you something about me and I wouldn't be sitting here right now," he answered.

Hiccup's mouth fell open.

"You know," Jack said with a grin, "I can become invisible, but I can see through you every once in a while."

"I guess so," the Viking agreed and returned the smirk.

"Hiccup?" Valka's tremulous voice issued from the stairwell.

Jack's head nearly spun in a circle while Hiccup flopped to one side on the bed to look around the Guardian. Jack vanished. Valka yelped in fright. Toothless grumbled from his nest, and only glanced up before closing his eyes again.

"For the love of Thor, Hiccup, who… what was that?" His mother begged the question in a panicked fashion, her green eyes large in fright.

"Mom, it's not what you think it is and nothing to worry about," he told her in a fast, staccato manner while struggling to sit up.

"Think?" Valka quailed. "I don't know what to think. Someone just disappeared right in front of me! What is going on?"

"Oh, gods, no!" Hiccup wailed, covering his face with his hands. "Not again. Not today!"

"Lady Valka," Jack's voice came quietly out of nowhere.

Son and mother both focused on the probable location. Jack slowly reappeared, except now he stood next to the bed with this staff in hand. Once he attained full visibility, he bowed toward the woman crouching at the edge of the stairs. She looked up with raw fear in her eyes.

"I am the one called Isemaler," Jack introduced himself and bowed again.

"What are you?" She whispered and looked ready to run if she heard the wrong response.

"I am a Guardian, Lady Valka, protector of children during the winter months," he answered hoping it would suffice, although it did not for her son when he heard it. "I am the one who makes the ice ferns and the snow flowers; the one who makes the children laugh when the winds blow strong and cold."

Valka's eyes shifted from the standing young man to the one sitting on the bed.

"Mom, if he posed a threat, don't you think Toothless would be reacting right now?" Hiccup rhetorically asked with less haste now that Jack revealed himself, and also very grateful the subject just arose.

She looked at the dragon who barely cracked open an eye when he heard his name. He flipped a wing over his head as if trying to block out the distractions. Valka then shifted her glance from the dragon to her son to the standing figure, and the repeated the rotation in reverse. What she planned to do remained uncertain.

"Isemaler is my friend," Hiccup implored his mother using the Berkian name.

"What is he?" Valka snapped out the question.

"Well, he says he not a god, but I think he's related to them," he told her while rubbing his face and trying to relax. "He can do some pretty amazing stuff."

"Is he safe?"

"I'm not dead, am I? And Toothless is sound asleep, so that's got to tell you something."

The dragon let out with a long, rumbled snore. Jack smirked and tried not to snicker at the identifiably false sleeping sound. He could not begin to estimate the full intelligence of the creature, but it seemed extremely high. Valka also proved resilient. Jack watched as she forcibly disassembled her fear and replaced it with pure caution. She slowly stood. Jack remained perfectly still.

"Are you a god?" She inquired directly of him.

"No, Lady Valka, I'm not any type of god," he replied.

"But you don't know?"

"I've met others who probably are much more god-like than me, and I am not certain they're gods, either. To be honest, I don't really know what a god is, and I think you would be better suited to judging that," Jack replied at length and shrugged.

Hiccup wanted to applaud the way Jack presented himself. It perfectly suited Valka's temperament and the moment in general. The minor air of deference the Guardian displayed added an excellent touch. Valka walked a few steps into the room. Both young men remained in place.

"Is this who you've been talking to for the past week?" Mother asked son.

Hiccup nodded.

"He didn't… today, he's not responsible?"

"What?" Hiccup inquired and then it struck him. "No! Mom, that's ridiculous! I've been this way my whole life!"

"I had to ask," she said and turned to Jack. "I meant no offense."

"None taken," he graciously accepted the partial apology, although Jack did not understand why she apologized.

Valka stood and stared at him, obviously studying Jack and trying to figure what he might be. Jack noted so many similarities between son and mother he wondered what genetic influence the father instilled. Like all people of true intellect, Valka's curiosity took over and completely marginalized any lingering fear. She stepped closer to him, scrutinizing his face.

"He looks so much like us," she murmured.

"I think Isemaler can hear you," Hiccup dryly intoned.

"I'm sorry, Isemaler. Forgive me… this is a bit much to take in," the woman extended her apologies.

"I swear to you, Lady Valka: I mean neither you, your son, nor anyone on Berk any harm," Jack told her because he thought she needed to hear it. "And I understand why you have doubts about me. I can't blame you for that. I'd feel the same way."

"I've learned, Isemaler, enemies can arrive with sweet words on their tongues."

"Mom, how many of our enemies spent weeks entertaining our children and never asked for anything in return?" Hiccup postulated in defense of the elemental being.

"No, Hiccup, she has a point. I've done battle with some who made incredible, tempting promises trying to keep me from my duty. Your mother's wise to be cautious, as you were when we first met. Like I said: I'd do the same thing," Jack countered his friend.

Valka looked between her and the truly strange stranger and said: "You talk about your duty, protecting children… being a guardian. What does that mean?"

For the third time since arriving on Halla, Jack explained his role as a Guardian, about the other Guardians, and the Man on the Moon. Valka listened and her eyes grew narrower with each passing statement. When her eyes closed and she scrunched up her face, Jack stopped talking. He waited for her.

"I never heard anything like this before, not even in the old tales," Valka stated after remaining silent for a short while.

"Isemaler is, um, not from… around here," Hiccup told her.

"I already figured that out, Hiccup."

"When I say not around here, I mean… well, not even from our world," he concluded.

Valka resumed closely scanning Jack's face and form. She looked him up and down, eyed his clothing, paid attention to his staff, and did as much with her eyes as anyone could. Jack felt a bit violated by the scrutiny, but he remained in place. His friend already suffered too much that day, and he did not wish to add to Hiccup's woes.

"You look so much like us," she after her visual inspection.

"I think we're more alike than we are different," Jack rejoined.

"I cannot turn invisible or do what you do with snow and ice, so I'd say there are a lot that is different between us!"

"Long ago I couldn't do any of this, Lady Valka. I had no powers. I was nothing more than human boy at the start. The being we, the other Guardians and I, call the Man in the Moon gave me these abilities. I don't know how, and I'm still not entirely sure why he picked me."

While Jack spoke, Valka moved to the opposite side of the bed where Jack stood. She sat down. It told Jack that while she may not be comfortable with his presence, she did not regard him as an immediate threat. He took that as a positive sign.

"You said long ago. How long ago is that?" Valka zeroed in on an interesting point.

Jack glanced at the younger Viking. Hiccup never asked the question, and it showed his mother's mind as truly incisive. He weighed how he should answer.

"I've been a Guardian for almost thirty years," he told them and watched Hiccup's stunned reaction.

"How long ago were you a human boy, as you put it?"

Now he felt a rush of panic in his gut. Rarely did he ever answer this question, and rarer still did anyone inquire. He glanced back and forth between son and mother. Once again he sensed the onus placed on him by Thursar H'rim to speak the truth at all times.

"A little over three hundred years ago," he honestly and quietly said.

The silence in the room blotted out all other sound. The two mortals looked at one another. Hiccup shook his head. Then they looked back at Jack.

"Santa is hundreds of years older than me, and Sandy… the Sandman is likely several thousand years old. He was the first, so no one knows for sure, and the Man on the Moon won't tell the rest of us," Jack answered the unspoken questions.

"But you act so… young," Hiccup whispered and sounded confused.

"I think my age got frozen when I got my powers, Hiccup. I am the Spirit of Fun for children, so…"

"You must be a child yourself, mentally that is," Valka filled in when he trailed off.

"A little older than that," he corrected. "Sometimes I have to fight like an adult."

Overhead Jack heard thunder, but it did not sound like a summons. He felt Thursar H'rim noted what he said for a later conversation. The other people in the room did not seem to hear it. Their eyes remained glued to him.

"Forgive me if this is too personal, but what did you do for the two hundred and seventy years between becoming… who you are and becoming a Guardian?" The woman said, sharply picking apart the details of his life.

"I… had fun," he replied and thought back to those long years after he rose from the lake. "I learned to use my powers and make the designs and start snowball fights… play with the wind… create snowstorms… rearrange the faces of snowmen, slide down hills, help children find the joy in winter… and fly. I love to fly."

Jack barely spoke the last sentence since it came wholly from his heart. Of all the skills given to him by the Man on the Moon, he loved flight most of all. It called to his spirit and fed him elation so intense he could not describe it. Soaring above the land made him feel more complete than anything else. It helped him understand why snow tumbled through the air like it did. He saw the world in a way few could. The small smile on his face aimed inward to his most profound desire. Energy, ignited by his emotional response, flowed around and through him. Although a child of the winter, warmth spread throughout his body.

"Good heavens!" Valka whispered in astonishment.

Jack returned from his reverie and saw snow falling gently, silently around him. He looked down and saw his hands sparkling, as well as the entire length of his crook. The frost power of his name emanated from him. He smiled at the flakes in the air, and held up his hand with one finger pointing upward. A single flake landed on the tip, but did not melt. He bent his eye close so he could see it. The tiny structure seemed perfect in every detail. To him snow remained a six-sided miracle. More energy surged in his body. Jack laughed, but not at anyone. He laughed because winter made him happy.

"Wow," Hiccup murmured, transfixed by the magic that seeped form the young immortal.

"I'm sorry," Jack hastily apologized and grinned. "I didn't mean to make a mess with the snow."

Valka stood and walked toward him. A tiny smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes told Jack she no longer feared him. When she got close enough, Valka raised a hand and patted his cold cheek. It felt motherly to him in a way he had not experienced since gaining his elemental form. It caused a twinge in his heart.

"I don't think someone who can feel as you do and do something so beautiful is a danger to us," the woman said in a warm voice. "Be welcomed here, Isemaler."

"Thank you," Jack replied in husky voice. Almost too many emotions played within his form.

"Mom," Hiccup called to her in a gentle voice. "I don't think you should tell anyone you've actually met Isemaler."

"I know, son. He's not a secret, but I think he needs to remain… a mystery to most people," the woman replied.

"Yes, exactly," Jack agreed and thought it one of the smartest pronouncements he heard that day. "I don't normally let adults see me."

"And yet children call your name as though you walked freely among them," Valka said and gave a wistful chuckle. "And you do walk among them. I would have given anything to have someone like you around when I was little girl."

"You don't have to be little or young to appreciate what I do, Lady Valka."

"Oh, I know that, too, Isemaler. I know."

She said no more and carefully walked down the tricky stairs. When she disappeared, Hiccup and Jack glanced at one another. Hiccup clamped both hands over his mouth and buried his face in his bed. His body shook, vibrating the bed. Jack called upon his tremendous willpower to keep from bursting into gales of nervous laughter. As a result, more tiny snowflakes fell around his head. It took several minutes before any semblance of control settled on either of them.

"There is something magical about you, Jack," Hiccup said when he could do so without laughing.

"I think that's a bit obvious," he playfully rejoined and snickered.

"That's not it. I mean it's the way people end up liking you no matter how afraid they are at the start," the young Viking clarified. "I could feel it happening to me last week. I could feel it happening to my mother… and to Toothless. It's as if we're supposed to like you even when we don't know why."

Jack thought about it and twisted his head to the side while he did. After a few moments, he shrugged. Then he said: "Maybe it's a form of magic I can't control and it just happens. Children never seem to fear me. I've never met one who did… even here."

"But the weird thing is I didn't need magic for it to happen. I would've liked you anyway."

"Thank you," the elemental said, humbled. "I didn't realize how much I needed a friend here until to you told me and offered. I accepted it because I like you, too, Hiccup. You're kind and honorable. You are a Guardian in your own fashion."

Jack's words impacted Hiccup. At a time when even a simple compliment would go a long way with him, the Spirit of Fun said more in that one final phrase than Hiccup could imagine. In little over a week something entirely unexpected came into his life, much like Toothless did, and changed his world. Although he did not believe it adequate, Hiccup felt deep gratitude. He smiled and hoped it conveyed what he could not say at the moment. Jack nodded, and smiled in return.

Hiccup learned anew that change is a constant. Now that he shared the secret of Isemaler with another who he implicitly trusted, it did not weigh so heavily on him. The fact he did not love Astrid the way she wanted, or the way any woman would want, also relieved him of a burden. During the following days, people stopped and watched him as he went through his daily routines. Some whispered. One or two stray comments got thrown at him, but the demands of living on Berk during the winter did not leave time to dwell on it. People required food and warmth to survive. Animals needed to be tended if the humans wanted any chance to continue. Dragons required care since they proved an invaluable part of life on many levels. Life simply went on regardless of how it altered in small ways for the various individuals. Hiccup's mother proved prescient: by the end of eight days, no one save Astrid seemed to really care anymore. Proof came in an astounding way.

"I just don't see it," Tuffnut said during session of mucking out the dragon pens. The dragons helped, but it fell to humans to see it completed.

"What don't you see?" Snotlout took the conversational bait.

"Well, if Hiccup is attracted to men, who is attracted to him?"

"Very funny," Hiccup drolly commented while dragging a wheeled barrow to another pile of dragon droppings.

"He's actually facing a real problem," Fishlegs commented while raking through the soiled straw. "I don't know of any other men on Berk like him."

Hiccup stopped and stared at his friend.

"What?" The rotund blond young man said in a nervous voice.

"Uh, oh," Snotlout sniggered the word while watching the two.

"No, I'm not mad," Hiccup snapped out of shock. "I never thought of that."

"Alone forever. Bummer," Tuffnut remarked in an off-handed manner.

"Forever," the lead dragon rider said in a distant voice.

The four young men continued to work, but conversation died down. Hiccup considered the dilemma Fishlegs so adroitly spotted. Berk did not have a large population, and any other man like himself and his age would probably already be known. Thus far, only he and Gobber shared the attribute. Hiccup started to feel depressed at his prospects. While Astrid would get over her anger at him and go on to find a man she could torment for the rest of her days, Hiccup acknowledged he could very well end up alone for his entire life. He wondered if Gobber ever felt alone and lonely. Hiccup could not recall a single time the man seemed to have someone with whom he got romantically entangled, man or woman.

Hiccup also noticed that Jack would disappear for up to three days every once so often. He could hear children commenting on the lack of new ice ferns or snow flowers or mysteriously started snowball fights, and that they did not see him. The legend of Isemaler grew among the offspring of Berk. Adults passed it off as childish fantasy while they worked to see another day in the harsh environment. Adults did not seem to notice that the children became happier and approached winter with a different sense of expectation. It also made them easier to manage. As chieftain, Hiccup found he owed the elemental being another debt of gratitude. However, he wondered where magical outlander went when he did leave the island.

"Okay, bud, one more pass and then back inside. I'm freezing," Hiccup said as they flew over Berk several days after Fishlegs' depressing discovery. Hiccup tended to spend more time with Toothless whenever he felt low, and soaring through the air often helped his mood.

Not only did the dragon need the exercise, but Hiccup wanted to survey Berk from the sky. Specifically, he looked for threats of avalanche on the upper regions. Wherever he found snow pack, he asked the dragon to blast it with a plasma shot. The village already accumulated enough snow and more tumbling down from the mountain would not help their situation. Toothless banked hard as they crested the northern bow of the island. Few people lived on that side, so he did not concern himself with snow pack. However, Hiccup did keep an eye out for stray animals or wandering wild dragons. Thus, he observed one thing instead of another.

"Toothless is fast," a voice said next to Hiccup and then a body appeared.

"Gods!" Hiccup yelled and that caused Toothless to roar.

"Sorry," Jack hollered over the wind streaking between them.

"You know I'd fall to my death if I wasn't strapped to the saddle when you scare me like that?"

"I wouldn't let that happen."

Hiccup looked to his left and watched as the elemental sailed in the air. Jack glided his stretched out body through the currents like a fish in the water. His staff held out before him seemed to break the headwinds. The Viking remembered his friend's reaction to even thinking about flying, and the wide smile on Jack's face – and he seemed completely unconscious of it – confirmed his love of the ability. Using only his knees, Hiccup directed Toothless to begin a descent toward an open spot between trees that appeared swept bare of snow. The dragon responded without pause.

"So, how fast can you go?" Hiccup asked the Spirit of Fun when they landed and he pulled off his helmet.

"In emergency situations I can break the sound barrier," Jack replied.

Hiccup just raised his eyebrows in question.

"Oh, right," the elemental said realizing no one on Halla experimented with advanced aeronautics. "Um, see, sound can only travel so fast through the air. The air molecules get in the way. It's the same reason why you can feel wind on your face: air has mass."

"Okay, I get the part about air having substance and sound traveling through it, but I didn't know it had a speed limit," Hiccup rejoined.

"It does, depending on relative temperature and humidity, sound can only travel at seven-hundred and sixty some miles an hour."

"What's a mile?"

"A unit of distance…." Jack began and thought for a moment.

Although Hiccup tried to follow along, Jack spoke too fast and used too many unfamiliar terms to explain all the concepts. He got a rough idea of the distance of a mile. An hour could also be roughly estimated, and so Jack led him though understanding that sound could travel only so many miles in an hour. The distance impressed Hiccup, but the speed at which Jack could fly did more so.

"Doesn't it hurt traveling that fast?" He asked. "I mean, the wind has got to be pretty bad."

"I don't really feel it," the elemental told him. "When I'm not in immaterial form, I think I sort of get enveloped in magic and it makes me aerodynamic. I think it protects me when I fly that fast."

Hiccup nodded. While he usually found the aspects of flight fascinating, the concepts and words Jack used required further thought. Then again, other questions filled his mind having nothing to do with flying that he wanted to ask.

"So, ah, where do you go when you're not on Berk?" He began.

"Sometimes I go talk to Thursar H'rim, but most of the time I fly over the islands and the oceans looking for children who need to be cheered up. The ones stuck on the trader ships need it the most," Jack answered.

"Yeah, that makes sense. I've spent enough time in the bottom of a boat to know I'd rather be flying."

"It's scary out there for them what with the storms and pods of water dragons and the ones flying overheard. I'm surprised anyone can make a living on the seas," Jack offered his view.

"We're Vikings. Tough, stubborn, and too stupid to quit is our motto," the young chieftain said with a rueful grin. He slapped his arms and chest to get the blood flowing.

"Cold?" Jack inquired.

"You could say that," Hiccup answered and only marginally hid the sarcasm. "Do you mind if we pick this up later someplace where I don't run the risk of turning into an icicle?"

"Should I come by your house later?"

"I'd like that. I got some questions I think only you can answer."

Jack nodded and said: "Okay, after sunset when you've eaten."

"Good. Thanks," Hiccup called after the figure that went from standing next to him to darting through the sky in a blink of an eye. He slapped the side of Toothless and asked: "Think you can take him in a race?"

The dragon just rolled his eyes.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	6. Chapter 6

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Six**

by D. O'Shae

Much later after dinner, and Hiccup explained to his mother Jack would stop by to talk, Hiccup sat in his room at his desk reading over lists of notes. He wore a robe over his wool undergarments since he stripped off his riding leathers. His foot nestled snugly in lamb's wool hide slipper with the fleece turned toward the inside. He drank a cup of hot spiced wine to ward off any lingering sense of cold. The fires in the stoves and hearths burned slow and steady, keeping the house sufficiently warm. Thus, Hiccup got lost in attending to his duties while Toothless happily slept after a day of flight and work.

"Hello," Jack said quietly while flying through the wall and landing on the floor. It creaked while he attained solid form. He went and sat on the bed while Hiccup spun around on his chair. As usual in the later evenings, his mechanical leg lay next to the bed. Jack placed his staff next to it.

"Hi," Hiccup said, sincerely glad to see the immortal. Once more, questions lined up in his head.

"I got the impression you wanted to ask me something else this afternoon."

"Really? Was it something I said?" The Viking replied with cheery sarcasm, and Jack smirked in response. "I do. A lot stuff, really, but some of it's personal."

"You can ask me anything you like about my life," Jack offered.

"I, ah, meant more personal to me," Hiccup said and his cheeks burned a bit.

"Ah."

The two glanced at one another and grinned.

"This is kind of stupid way to start, but… are your clothes real? I mean, come on, after three hundred years they'd kind of stink, wouldn't they?" Hiccup launched into a tangentially related topic.

"They feel real to me, but I guess it's subjective. I'm pretty sure this sweatshirt and pants are constructed of magic and not cloth," Jack explained, and it surprised him that he never thought of it before. His clothing always just appeared on his body. "I got the hoodie as gift about fifteen years ago, though… so I'm not sure what it is."

"Hoodie, good word for that. I like it."

"It is, but… now you've got me wondering," the elemental replied while he stood.

Jack stretched out his arms and closed his eyes. He thought about what he wore and from where he got it. The hooded sweatshirt he completely remembered. The pants, however, seemed a part of him from the beginning. He knew the style be different than the current one on Earth, so he guessed them to be old. However, he never changed clothes, except the time he accepted the hoodie, but he could not remember putting it on. It seemed to just appear on him. Jack concentrated on his clothing while wondering what effect he could have on it.

"Ah, Jack, what are you doing?" Hiccup's voice cut through the air with a note of panic.

"Hold on. I'm thinking," he retorted.

"No, you're not, and I think you better stop!"

"Why?" Jack said and opened his eyes.

"Because… that," the young chieftain said and pointed to him.

Jack looked down. His clothes were gone and he stood naked in the room. A short snort and chuckle emerged from him. The Guardian got his answer regarding his clothing. He concentrated. Nothing happened.

"Are you going to get dressed, because I really don't think you should be like that in front of me," Hiccup all but begged. His eyes fastened on the nude young man before him. The more or less normal looking skin with the blue highlights seemed flawless in his eyes. He tried to look elsewhere, but his desires and inclinations kept him paralyzed.

Jack tried, but he could not figure out how to make his clothing reappear. He saw how uncomfortable it made his friend, and he wanted to end the display yet something blocked his efforts. He closed his eyes again and applied more mental effort. He cracked one open, and saw no change. Jack remained exposed.

"Please!" Hiccup pleaded, but his voice sounded different to Jack while his eyes scanned up and down the Guardian's body.

Suddenly the elemental Guardian felt a strange ripple in the air. Under the desk next to Hiccup a dark, thin haze appeared. Within it, two small spots of orange took shape. Jack instantly recognized it. His staff flew from the floor into his hand. He aimed it at the manifesting Flesh Hungerer. Cold surrounded his hand and he heard ice crackle on his crook. The emerging creature vanished as slowly as it began to form. Jack looked to Hiccup, who now seemed a bit frightened.

"What's, ah, happening?" Hiccup whispered the question.

"Something… nothing… it's gone," Jack haltingly informed him.

The young Viking man nodded and said: "At least you're dressed again."

Jack glanced down and saw his clothing.

"Has that ever happened before?"

"No," the elemental replied, "but I never thought about it like that… what they are. So, why were you interested in my clothes anyway?"

"Just something I thought about. Sometimes what I'm wearing reeks if I've had it on too long," Hiccup said and tugged at his robe as if to readjust it. "I just noticed you always wear the same thing… and I never smell anything, so I guess that means you don't have to bathe."

"Ah, I don't need to. I could if I wanted to, but… it's weird: I've never really thought about my body before."

"Why not?"

"It's just always been there."

"What about when you were, you know, human?"

Jack leaned back and propped himself on his arms. Hiccup's questions vaguely unsettled him. The memories Jack possessed about his former life were incomplete. A few of his baby teeth got lost in the war with Pitch Black, but the surviving teeth did not contain any memories past the point when they fell out. When he did think of his mortal life beyond the age of ten or eleven only scattered fragments remained.

"Jack, I'm sorry if I pried into something I shouldn't," Hiccup said when he saw the reaction of the elemental.

"No, it's okay, Hiccup. It's just… see, I don't have all my memories from when I was a full human," the Guardian explained. "They got lost before I could get them back, and the ones I have… it doesn't answer half the questions you probably have."

"Lost?"

"It's really complicated and a really long story. I'd have to start in the morning and it would take me all day to tell you that tale."

"Sure, I've got a few like that myself."

Once more they stared at one another. The odd tensions in the room finally dissipated. Jack knew Hiccup made a concerted effort to get to know him. However, he could sense something other intent lurked behind his interests. As a Guardian, Jack attuned to people's intentions.

"Okay, Hiccup, what is it you really want to know? It can't just be about my clothes and if I remember having a real body," the elemental cut through the preliminaries.

"It's something Fishlegs said to me a few days ago," Hiccup replied and stared down at his remaining foot. "He pointed out I'm alone… and probably will be for the rest of my life."

"You're not alone, Hiccup. You've got your mother, your friends… and the entire village looks to you. You're far, far from being alone," Jack countered.

"That's, ah, not what I meant."

"Well, what did you mean?"

"See… people… maybe you don't remember… but alone… like in not having someone to love… just for me," Hiccup haltingly explained, feeling a bit embarrassed. "There're no other guys my age on the island who are like me… like how I feel about… in an, you know, intimate way."

"Oh!" Jack whispered as he partially realized what his friend meant.

Hiccup shook his head, his face red, and asked: "Were you ever in love when you were human?"

"I don't remember," the magical young man said. "I don't know. Maybe not. Don't forget I was barely thirteen when this happened."

"Thirteen, right, but by the time I was thirteen I knew certain things, you know, got the blood flowing and what made me feel good…"

"Like when you were alone and touched yourself until you leaked fluid?" Jack rather innocently inquired.

"WHAT?" Hiccup blurted, completely stunned and mortified.

Toothless grumbled from his nest at being awoken. He shifted around, minor complaints from him drifted around. Jack looked anywhere but at his friend. Judging from the reaction he either should not have watched or should not admit he did watch. He felt like turning invisible. Panic and the need to be honest combined to unhinge the young Guardian's mouth.

"It was when I first arrived here, and I swear I didn't know what exactly was going on except I was trying to figure out who was who and I knew you were in charge and I heard the argument you had with the one called Gobber and I just wanted to make sure you were okay and didn't need something to cheer you up and I saw what you did to yourself, and it looked like you enjoyed it, but that's when the Flesh Hungerer attacked me and I got knocked through the wall and it made me all stupid in the head until Thursar H'rim found me and explained…"

"STOP!" Hiccup commanded him since it sounded like Jack planned on relating everything he did since arriving at Berk.

Toothless grunted in displeasure again.

"Okay, so you didn't watch on purpose, but you had to know that was, you know, private."

"Um, maybe but not really," Jack confessed. "The whole memory thing, remember?"

"So you never… with yourself?" Hiccup carefully queried.

Jack shook head back and forth. They looked at one another, each embarrassed for different reason concerning the same event. For the first time it dawned on Hiccup that simply because one reached three-hundred years old, it did not mean the person understood everything. Jack suddenly seemed young to him again.

"Wait," Hiccup said as one bit ricocheted around his brain. "What's a Flesh Hungerer?"

One almost appeared, so it the topic remained fresh in his mind. Jack felt oddly trapped. On one hand the Flesh Hungerer did not actually harm mortals since they somehow called it forth. On the other hand, it arrived during Hiccup's private time. On a third hand if people actually could grow one, he felt compelled to be honest, and yet he did not know the precise details of the creature's nature.

"I've only seen them a couple of times. They tend to run away from me because they know I'm linked to Thursar H'rim," Jack started his explanation. "The creatures somehow get created when people use their, ah, stuff down there to feel good. They look like thick, dark smoke and take on a shape they get from the person who wills them up. Yours looked like a dragon."

"What do they do?" Hiccup asked, fascinated by the sheer idea of a magical creature being associated with a personal activity. His embarrassment receded because of the strange aspect.

"I think the feed off the energy you generate when you do that. It looked pretty intense. I thought for a few minutes you were hurting yourself," Jack answered with another confession.

"Do these things harm us?"

"Not that I know of. They disappear pretty soon after… when you're done."

Hiccup slumped a little on his chair and looked perplexed. He did not doubt his friend, but it came from a world he did not know existed let alone one that resided with his. Magic, Hiccup decided, could be both exciting and terrifying. It made him wonder how Jack managed to survive the transition. Once again, the Viking determined hidden strengths lay in Jack.

"Hiccup?" Jack made many inquiries with the single name.

"No, I'm alright. It's just a lot to take in. There's all this stuff out there I never knew about… couldn't even dream about 'til you came around. It makes me think a lot."

"Is that bad?"

"No, it's probably a very good thing," Hiccup rejoined.

Jack nodded and questioned: "Can I ask you something personal now?"

"After what you've seen of me, how much more personal can it get?" The Viking rhetorically queried.

"Well, I suppose you seeing me without clothes makes it a little more even, but... why don't you like your body?" The Guardian stated and inquired.

"Come on! Look at it!" Hiccup exclaimed and threw his arms out. "I'm too thin for how tall I am. It barely looks like I have any muscle on me… plus the red hair and freckles and I'm missing part of a leg. Have you really looked at my nose, huh? This isn't the stuff of anyone's fantasy!"

"I don't look that much different from you, and it never bothered me," Jack quietly mused.

"Sure, you're a Guardian. You look… amazing, Jack. Just like you're supposed to for what you are," his mortal friend rambled on the subject. "After seeing you fly today, your body makes complete sense. You're like an arrow in the air, all long and stretched out. And from what I saw a few minutes ago, you're perfectly shaped for what you do."

"Isn't than true for you as well?"

"Have you seen the other dragon riders?" Hiccup asked in a droll manner. "It doesn't take any body type to be one. Fishlegs is the least air-oh… whatever you it is you called it 'cause he looks like a sausage flying on a rock."

Jack tried to stifle the snicker that bubbled up in him.

"I'm not being mean to Fishlegs, honestly, but look at him! Does it make sense he and Meatlug can even make it into the air?"

Jack shrugged and tried to erase the grin from his face.

"But that's not the point… at least not now," Hiccup said and sounded flustered.

"What is the point?"

"Who's out there for me, huh?" His friend loudly asked. "Look, you've traveled around a lot from the sound of it. Have you ever noticed a guy like me… who feels like I feel?"

"It's not anything I tried to find 'cause it's not part of my duty," Jack honestly answered. "This topic doesn't usually come up with children."

"But… you haven't seen… anyone? Any man… men?"

The defeated tone in Hiccup's voice stung Jack. A desperate note rang in his friend's tone, and it sounded like loneliness. He understood loneliness. Well over two centuries passed while Jack tried to simply get people to notice him when he first gained his elemental body. The Man in the Moon never told him how or what to do. Those years frustrated him to no end. Thus, he felt for his friend.

"But I can start watching the next time I head out," Jack offered. "I can't promise I'll find anything."

"I just need to know there's a chance… somewhere… for me," Hiccup implored, but it did not seem to be directed at the Guardian.

The conversation became stilted after that. They talked, but Jack could sense Hiccup's mind got occupied by personal considerations. He could not blame his friend. His sense of loneliness ended when he met and joined the Guardians, but before that Jack felt like the only elemental immortal in the entire world despite his run-ins with the Guardians. When he departed Hiccup's house that evening, he privately vowed he would pay attention to more than just the children. Jack owed the young Viking chieftain a debt of friendship.

Despite the heavy clouds Thursar H'rim sent to cover the northern lands, along with the fierce winds and driving snow, Jack Frost decided the next day to see what he could discover out on the seas. Winter squalls could be terrifying for ship-bound children, and they needed him most during those trying times. Jack flew out from Berk, traveling just south of the main archipelago. Only a rare captain took chances on rough seas in the winter; thus, Jack did not see any ships that first day. All through the night he hunted for signs of oceanic travelers. Only ice traversed the chill waters.

"They're not fools," Jack told himself feeling both glad he did not find anyone in danger and a little sad he could not make a report to his friend.

At twilight on the second day Lord of Winter let loose with another tempest. Jack flew through it without any problem since he could slip into his immaterial form. He felt neither cold nor wind nor snow. Huge waves surged across the open waters driven by the gales, carrying along chunks of ice the size of boulders. Rare winter lightning crackled overhead as Thursar H'rim carried out his duty with gusto. A surreal, violent beauty played out below Jack. He watched in awe as tremendous forces went to work. He could scarcely imagine being able to command such power.

The twinkle that caught his eye arrived too late as it climbed up the side of an enormous wave like some small animal climbing a mountain. The elemental Guardian sailed down through the storm toward it. The ship rose higher, and the bow pointed skyward. Jack heard screams from within. Seconds later he coursed through the hull of the ship. Two families huddled in stark terror at their misfortune. Two mothers clung to the five children between them. The fathers, Jack guessed, stood topside attempting to navigate, although he doubted they stood there any longer. A great crashing noise erupted around the people and invisible figure when a mammoth piece of ice pierced through the upper deck and dove straight through the hull. The ship began fill with frigid watcher. The cries and screams built horrendously in Jack's ears.

The vessel capsized and started to sink while tumbling along the cresting wave. The passengers in the boat could not escape, got thrown about, and Jack floated unharmed and useless within the floundering craft. Water overtook the last space in the hull. The final light extinguished. With magical vision Jack could do nothing but watch as the women and children struggled to live but drowned while the ship slipped farther under the gargantuan waves and sailed toward the depths. Horror stricken, he chased after the doomed boat since the ocean did not present a barrier to him. Jack wanted to find the name of the ship so he could report it to Hiccup who might know its port of call. Down and down into the inky blackness he plunged.

Jack halted. Despite the darkness surrounding him, something even darker lay ahead. He stared into the depths as best he could. Even with magical sight, the conditions limited his ability. However, his energies prickled and he became nervous. The Guardian could not even formulate a guess as to what hid out there. He wanted to call it a presence, yet the very fact it felt like the embodiment of naught said otherwise. The darkness stirred.

 _Come_.

Jack did not hear it. He did not even feel it. He called it a word, but that failed to describe it. The thought, an entire concept, filled his mind for an entire second. It left his other senses reeling. When Jack pulled his brain together, he saw indistinct and pale images moving through the water, not swimming, toward the greater blackness. They approached the periphery of the nothingness, and then they seemed to slip out of existence one at a time. Jack could feel them disappear, and it made him physically ill in a manner he never experienced.

 _Done_.

He pressed his hands to the side of his ethereal head trying to keep the thought from making him explode. It reverberated through his phantasmal skull each time one of the seemingly inconsequential fluttering objects got crossed into the ebony space. It threatened to consume him as he realized something important got taken from the world as confirmed by the concept pulverizing his mind. Whatever beat the idea into his head, it could not be human. It did not even feel alive. It possessed reality, but seemed beyond limit. Jack silently quailed. Never did he understand what it meant to be done in such completeness as he did that second. It nearly stripped him of his sanity.

 _Gone_.

The last dim, undulating embodiment exited the world through massive gloom in the distance. The jet area appeared even more devoid. Moreover, it extended outward in radiating waves of raw sickness. Had he been able, Jack would have vomited. Everything around him felt lessened in an unbound manner. Moreover, it left him by himself. In the past he felt alone, but never as alone as he did in that moment. He feared whatever lurked just beyond his visual acuity would entirely consume him, and even memories of his existence would perish. A need to weep, to wail, and send out the misery erupting in him took over. It seemed as though the last hope in all the world departed.

 _End_.

His body reacted by instinct and curled around itself. Jack hugged his knees as close to his chest as he could. It felt certain the thing would extinguish him beyond reclamation. Whatever existed before him did so as an idea so large even the ocean lacked size enough to hold it. The notion ate him, devouring whatever emotion he retained. It left nothing in him. The meaning of it became so complete it gave rise to loathsome dread. The term monstrous played in his mind over and over until the word itself failed to encapsulate it and whimpered to a halt. It defeated Jack without so much as lifting a weapon or striking a blow. The horror before him drained every last vital bit from his mind. Jack gave up. He floated in the water spent and wasted while the entity expanded around him. The world disappeared.

High above a vague dot appeared. Gray and murky it hovered. It pulled. Without knowing how or why, Jack moved toward it. It seemed like hours, perhaps even days, before it began to grow and fill his sight. He realized he could see. Slowly, it dawned on Jack he did not die. He remembered he swam into the ocean chasing a sinking ship with dead people aboard. Then the memory of the terrible darkness returned. He curled into a ball and ceased moving. Jack remained still until the memory passed over him, leaving him feeling helpless and weak. He resumed his upward movement simply because it became easier than holding still. Light began to fill his eyes. Moments later, the water turned a translucent green and grew bright around him. Jack emerged from ocean and faced the sun.

It did not restore him.

Instinct alone acted as a guide. Jack did not care if he remained in the water or flew, but flight once meant something to him. He drifted upward, his staff grasped lazily in his hand. A westward wind blew, so he followed it because no other direction made any greater difference to the Guardian. Jack drifted along, eyes closed most of the time and he struggled to blot out the recurring images of what he witnessed. He could not. What he saw seemed burned into his mind, leaving a void that robbed him of his faculties. Time passed and he never marked it. Had he been visible, he would appear a life-sized doll gone limp and ragged bobbing through the tumultuous sky. Jack did not consciously direct himself.

The island, so like all the others it did not matter to him, loomed in the distance. The wind pushed him toward it. It seemed vaguely familiar, but he failed to care. Gradually he sank out of the heavens, down toward a large building on the island. People milled about, but Jack paid them no heed. They did not see him. He glided past the longhouse to a dwelling on a hill next to it. Immaterial and insubstantial, he passed through the wall. In a room with a hearth on one end, a table and chairs occupying the center next to the galley, Jack fell. He hit the floor with a thud, his body solid. Jack lay on floor unmoving and staring ahead. He had no will to do otherwise. Time edged around him and the day passed into night.

"Great Odin!" Woman's voice yelled. "Hiccup! Here! Now!"

Thundering noises erupted around Jack's head. He did not move. He blinked once.

"Oh, gods! What happened to him?" The young Viking chieftain blurted.

Jack lay inert as if unaware of what happened around him. Hands made strong by years of caring for dragons gripped either of his arms. He got hoisted off the floor.

"Toothless, come here and help," the young mortal man said in a rush.

Suddenly a black object neared.

"NO!" Jack shrieked and started kicking his legs. "NO! NO!"

He tried to raise his arms over his face to shield himself from the looming darkness. His staff waved dangerously about. Burst of cold erupted and shot through the air. The darkness came after him.

"Toothless, go upstairs!" Hiccup commanded the dragon.

"NO!" The young elemental wailed again as the pitch blotch backed up and jumped to the second floor.

"What's the matter with him?" Valka asked when Jack sagged and went quiet as quickly as he lashed out.

Hiccup looked at his mother and replied: "I don't know. I don't know what could do this to him."

Jack slumped back into near lifelessness, yet he feared the blackness would come after him again. All he could think about centered on his existence coming to a silent, permanent end. Dread took refuge in every part of his being. It sapped him of strength. In his dumb state, Jack rode on Hiccup's back up the stairs with Valka making certain he did not fall off. He barely registered the fact when he got placed in the bed and covered with a blanket. Lights flared above him, but Jack gave no indication he saw it. He lay in the bed staring at the wooden wall.

Son and mother looked at one another with worried expression.

"How…?" Valka asked again.

"He went out four days ago to fly over the seas," Hiccup said, although he did not know for certain. "I wondered where he was last night. He normally comes back after a day or two."

"What can we do for him?"

"You're guess is as good as mine," her son replied, and his concern lay naked in his voice. "Can you guess what might be wrong with him?"

Valka slowly shook her head and suggested: "Maybe he needs food or water."

"I've never Isemaler eat or drink, Mom."

It became stunningly clear to both of them that neither knew how to care for a being like Jack. Between the two of them, they could not produce a single name of one who would hazard any notion. Gothi, for all her venerable years, never told them about knowing any magical people. Thus, they remained at a loss on how to look after Jack. They let him lie in Hiccup's bed while they went and tended to their own needs. Toothless carefully slipped from his nest to join his rider

Later that evening, only the dragon and young man remained in the house. The woman went back to the dragon cave to continue her work since she felt, as she told her son, so utterly useless in her inability to help the elemental man. Hiccup said he felt the same, but he did not think their guest should be left alone. Thus, sometime after his mother departed, he changed into his nightshirt and climbed into his bed next to Jack. Jack, for his part, did not move at all while he lay there alone. Moved by worry, Hiccup curled up next to his friend.

"I don't know what to do for you, Jack," he lamented. "I can't even figure out what's wrong with you. What happened?"

The voice crept around Jack's head and slipped into his ears. Remembering what happened ranked at the top of things he never wanted to do. Through it all, he fought against the mindless terror that gripped him. He thought over and over about the ship, the silent screams of those people as they drown, the lost children, and then that awful darkness in the sea. At long last, he closed his eyes.

"Thou art consumed, youngling," Thursar H'rim's voiced echoed around Jack, although Hiccup did not react. "Dost thou know what thee faced?"

"No," Jacked answered by moving his lips but making no sound.

"Thou came upon the Breathless One at work. Didst thou learn nothing from the encounter?"

Jack imperceptibly moved his head back and forth.

"Surely thou took lessons of a kind?" Thursar H'rim chastised him.

"Darkness," the young Guardian whispered into the night.

"Verily, but what of it?"

"Empty."

The voice of Thursar H'rim fell quiet, but still seemed to hover in the air.

"Gone," Jack muttered.

The bed jostled, and then an arm got flung around his motionless form. He could feel Hiccup's breath on the back of his head. He heard a light snore.

"Isemaler, dost thou perceive the nature of the Breathless One?" Thursar H'rim picked up the thread of conversation.

"End," Jack said, but one would be hard pressed to call it an answer.

"'Tis so. Methinks thou hast parleyed with the Breathless One on thy world if thou art the warrior as claimed," the mighty Lord of Winter conjectured.

"No."

"No," Hiccup mumbled in his sleep.

"Thou never witnessed the formless void 'til this day?"

"No," Jack repeated.

"No," Hiccup also repeated.

Although he did not care in the least, Jack sensed Lord of Winter pondered the situation.

"Think upon what thou saw!"

Memories of that horrible place in the ocean flooded back into his mind. Jack reacted violently to the unwanted intrusion. He began to swing with his arms and flail his legs. Cold rippled around him in waves. Hiccup rolled out of the bed and landed hard on the floor. The dragon flipped over onto his feet and lay low to view the scene with cautious eyes. The Viking scrambled up and watched as the elemental immortal thrashed wildly, encumbered by the blanket around him. Crackling, crunching sounds floated through the air as spots on the blanket froze solid and broke. A blue glow, more a sheen, coruscated around the area where the elemental struggled.

"Jack!" He called out. "Isemaler!"

Toothless' voice trumpeted in the room.

Jack Frost heard neither of them as he fought against the vision behind his closed eyes. He relived each agonizing moment. Once more he became defeated and it sickened him. He, Jack Frost, newest of the Guardians, proved unable to carry out the least of his duty in the murky depths. Yet the realization the children got irrevocably taken from the world haunted him most of all. It battered his mind. It rendered his power pointless since he could not stop it. It left Jack without merit because the one object he most needed to protect he lost. The nightmare of the unknowable, unstoppable hollow tore at him.

"Think, Isemaler!"

A hidden reserve of strength seeped into Jack's limbs. He climbed out from under the rent blanket, rested on his knees while staring up at the ceiling. Tears streamed down his face and froze as he felt his soul wither. His breath came in ragged gasps, issuing out of his mouth in white plumes.

Hiccup watched in mute horror as anguish consumed his friend. He saw the mouth open and close, twisted by a misery that could not find expression. Small explosions of winter power rocketed through the air. Hiccup worried the magical being might die. He could not witness the end of one he came to care about, and not so soon after he lost his father. Jack arched his back, his eyes unfocused and wide, his lips flecked with ice crystals and spittle, and he dragged in a lungful of air.

"Tell me what ate those children?" Jack half-yelled, half-begged. "I can't fight something like that. I'll lose… and I can't save them!"

Hiccup recoiled from the words. It felt as if he got stabbed in the chest while the memory of watching his father die surged through his mind. He understood the feeling of helplessness the being on his bed now felt. No one needed to tell Hiccup that what Jack suffered the most came in the belief he completely failed at his duty. The Viking felt the same once as he wrestled with the fact Drago Bludvist used Hiccup's most precious commodity, Toothless, to kill his father. It took the young chieftain months to make peace with himself over that event. Thus, hearing Jack call out and ask for answers to a horrendous question and admit his weakness stung Hiccup. Once more, the Viking chieftain got relegated to helplessly witnessing an event he could not alter. It hurt.

"Thou hast faced death, Jack Frost: the Breathless One. Thou cannot defeat it."

Jack sagged, weeping. In his heart of hearts, he already knew the answer. He fell back down onto the bed, curling up into a tight ball again as his power ebbed. He sobbed into the crook of his elbows, feeling impotent in his failure. The presence of immortal came closer to him.

"Thou tasted of death, and surely thou knew what thee witnessed? 'Twas but mortals passing from the world, as thou nearly did."

"They were just children. Alone... scared… and I could nothing," he growled in anguish at the voice only he heard. "Why? How can I... be this... and not save them?"

"Death comes for all, youngling. Thou must accept this. Accept it or lay down thy staff and go to thy doom."

Jack wept into his arms as the presence of Thursar H'rim receded. For the first time since he could long remember, he tasted hatred on his tongue. The unfairness of life toward those people on the boat stunned him. He never got the chance to even offer one last moment of joy before their passing. Jack came to hate death.

The wrenching agony of Jack became too much for Hiccup to idly sit by and watch. He climbed back onto the bed and carefully approached the slowly convulsing form. Gently and gingerly Hiccup moved the arms away. The ice-blue eyes that stared at him emitted a pain so raw it clawed at the young chieftain. Hiccup lifted the white-haired head, slid his legs under, and then cradled Jack. He felt a hand grasp at the cloth of his nightshirt. Hiccup started to rock back and forth.

"Whatever it was, it's gone, Jack," he tried to comfort his friend.

"It never leaves," Jack whispered in a hollow voice. "I don't... know... what to do."

"Protect the children as best as you can."

With that, Jack buried his face in Hiccup's legs. The misery of his ineffectualness poured out of him. His body shook in an attempt to cleanse itself. Hiccup folded over and hugged the elemental's head all the harder. The condition of his friend and old memories started to affect him. He began to weep as though his tears might bring surcease. The dragon rider felt wholly inadequate in being able to care for a person like Jack. Age and power, he saw, did not spare one from the travesties of existence. In some regards, it seemed to Hiccup as though it made it worse. He continued to rock his friend.

"I'll help you," Hiccup whispered. "I'll keep you safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

The Viking continued to murmur promises and reassurances to the stricken Guardian. He did so in time with his motions. It became an endless mantra. Gradually, it lulled Jack into stillness. Then it led him to sleep. His eyes closed. He focused on Hiccups low voice to keep the darkness at bay. Piece by piece he surrendered to slumber. Lastly, Jack thought he felt Sandy's gentle touch on his cheek.

Very early the morning before the sun even climbed into the sky, Valka arrived to a quiet house. She went in and to the stairs. The woman heard nothing. She softly climbed up. Only one sconce continued to glow as the rest long since exhausted their fuel. Valka raised herself onto the floor and stood. She glanced over at the dragon nest. Toothless returned her gaze with large, questioning eyes. She looked at the bed.

In the middle of the bed, Hiccup wrapped his body like a cocoon around Jack. The both slept, and it brought her some relief. Jack's face looked even and smooth and untroubled. She, too, wanted sleep, but she needed to make certain her son and their guest were safe. Satisfied, the mother of village chief retreated from bedroom of her son in search of her own. Silence again filled the house not long after.

Something warm and both vaguely sweet and smoky smelling intruded into Jack's slumber. His eyes creaked open. An ebony face stared at him. It gave Jack a start, and then he remembered the house served as home to a dragon. He tried to move an arm and could not. The elemental found it surprising he remained solid in his sleep since he normally became immaterial and invisible when he did. The tight hold of arms around his chest and the manner in which the young chieftain positioned himself made Jack feel oddly protected. It seemed a reversal of sorts. The dragon prodded Jack's forehead with his blunt nose.

Jack switched form, and suddenly Hiccup looked as though he hugged himself under the somewhat wrecked blanket. The Guardian floated upward, and the act strained his senses as though he were out of practice. Once in the air, with the dragon following his every move, he landed at the foot of the bed. With amazing stealth, Toothless crawled over to him. Then the animal looked up at the ceiling. Jack followed the animal's gaze. Above he saw the portal, and he saw it the problem.

Jack solidified, and the floated upward. One of the mainsprings connected to the latching system, the design showing hallmarks of Hiccup's inventive creativity, looked twisted and broken. Jack examined the entire portal. The door would not swing open since the latch could not be retracted. Toothless got trapped in the house because of it. After a few more moments, the elemental young man figured out how to release the door. He did so. A great swooshing of the air blasted toward him. He got out of the way just as the dragon arrived. Toothless gave him a look conveying gratitude, and the slipped out of the portal. The door did not retract fully, and Jack finished closing it.

"I'll have to fix that," a voice said from below.

Jack looked down and saw Hiccup looking up. The young man appeared tired. Jack drifted downward.

"You, ah, look… better," Hiccup said, but it sounded more like an inquiry.

"Maybe," Jack said and glanced down at the ground. He felt shame for a myriad of reasons. "I'm sorry I troubled you."

"Trouble…? Jack, no, something happened to you," Hiccup refuted and a look of concern crossed his face. "Something bad."

Jack lifted his legs and assumed a seated position in mid-air. He stared at the Viking and wondered just how much damage he caused, and suspected the twisted spring of the portal his doing. He shuddered as bits and pieces of the dark images came back to him.

"You didn't fail," Hiccup sternly told him.

"I didn't save them."

"But you went up against something you couldn't fight. You said so yourself!"

"You… heard?" Jack inquired. It scared him to think Lord of Winter made an appearance in the house.

"I think you were talking to someone like you, but I couldn't hear what that person… being said," Hiccup informed him

Jack nodded. Hiccup threw covers off of his body, stood on his knees, and shuffled toward Jack. A fist-sized hole in his nightshirt showed where he came close to taking frost damage during Jack's outbursts. When he reached the end of the bed, the young chieftain reached up, grabbed the oddly cool foot of the hovering Guardian, and pulled him down to face level. Jack did not resist. Hiccup stared him right in the eyes. Jack noted again the irises were as green as new leaves.

"I don't like to talk about this but…" and Hiccup seemed to steal himself. "Drago used Toothless to kill my father."

Jack's feeling of self-pity took a blow and started to crack. He gaped at the young man. Both the implications and ramifications looked ugly. The elemental did not know how to respond.

"Drago had an alpha dragon and that's how he controlled Toothless," Hiccup continued, although his voice sounded both dry and flat. "He meant to have Toothless kill me, and my father… jumped in the way to save me. The blast hit him in the chest and killed him."

"Hiccup," Jack quietly said the name.

"No, Jack, listen," the Viking said and brushed aside the sympathy. "I blamed myself because I thought I lost control of Toothless. I blamed Toothless, too. But I finally figured out wasn't his fault or mine: it was Drago's. He used something bigger than me or Toothless or my dad. The three of us together couldn't beat it. It took all of the dragons to do that!"

Jack saw a pain that looked remarkably like the one he felt ripple across his friend's visage. It arrived, but left quickly as a look of determination took its place. He marveled at the swift progression.

"I don't know what you went up against… and maybe I wouldn't even understand it, but I do know what it's like to face something you can't beat alone. It made me feel so worthless afterward when I thought about it. It started to eat me up. I knew it wasn't Toothless' fault, so I figured it had to be mine. Somehow I wasn't good enough or strong enough or important enough to stop Drago from turning Toothless into a killer. I blamed myself at first," Hiccup related the events with an undercurrent of anger.

The Viking cast a hard gaze at the Guardian. Jack almost flinched at the steely glint in the eyes. He never viewed Hiccup as a hard or ruthless person, but he quickly realized an incredible fortitude girded his wiry frame. It dawned on him Hiccup now shared where it originated.

"I wouldn't listen to people," the Viking continued. "Everyone said the right things, but I couldn't hear them. It started to change when I figured out I was going to lose Toothless. He shared my guilt… my shame. I tried to tell him it was me and not him, but he knew he hurt me somehow. It hurt worse to think I'd lose him after losing my dad."

"What changed?" Jack asked and uncertainty laced his question.

"Me. I had to accept that I couldn't do anything to change what happened… even when it was happening," Hiccup said and now sounded thoughtful. "My father did what a chieftain is supposed to do… and what a father is supposed to do. He sacrificed his life for us. It was the only way he could keep me alive. That's what hurt me, Jack. I couldn't stop thinking that I didn't do enough to keep him alive. I thought I should've known how to beat Drago and the alpha, and that was the problem right there."

Jack waited while Hiccup looked off into the distance.

"Somethings are stronger than us… than we'll ever be. There are forces we can never beat by ourselves. I realized I'd never be able to beat Drago or the bewilderbeast on my own no matter how powerful I got. Drago would never listen to reason, so even that was useless. I hated there was something… bigger than me that could do whatever it wanted… even take my dragon and father from me."

The Guardian nodded.

Hiccup held his gaze and said: "Whatever it is you faced, whatever took those children, you can't stop it, Jack. I don't know what…"

"It's the Breathless One," Jack said the name even though it tasted foul in his mouth.

"Death?" Hiccup whispered. "You went up against Death?"

It surprised Jack to hear Hiccup knew about the Breathless One, and then realized the stupidity of thinking his friend would not.

"How… you can't fight that, Jack!"

Jack tried to respond but could not.

"No one can fight Death and win. You'd be stupid to even try," his friend said in a rush. "Jack?"

"It's not even that the children…" and Jack's voice caught for a second, "drowned, Hiccup. It's not that. When the Breathless One took them, they just stopped… being. I could feel it, Hiccup. Those children did more than disappear: everything about them is gone for good!"

His head lowered until his chin touch his chest. Once again Jack felt the utter defeat since what remained of the children got completely eradicated. Death went further than simply taking their lives: it ended everything about them. The horror of witnessing that started to flood through him again.

"Jack!" Hiccup yelled his name and violently shook the foot still in his grasp.

The elemental Guardian's head snapped up.

"No, they're not," Hiccup roughly told him when young immortal made eye contact.

"You didn't see…"

"I don't have to, Jack! Think about it!"

It sounded vaguely like the reproval of Lord of Winter.

"What do you know about this that I don't?" Jack spat out the question. "They became nothing!"

"Then how do you still know about those children?" Hiccup yelled into his face.

Jack's eyes went wide.

"My father is physically gone. I know that. He's never, ever coming back," the Viking sternly said. "Those children are never coming back. There was nothing you could do to save them. Even if you could turn time around and go back, could you stop them from dying for forever?"

He knew he could not, and Jack let his face show it.

"And you couldn't stop the Breathless One, either. It might've taken you, too. Just like I couldn't stop Drago or the alpha… and he might've killed me. Then where would my father be?"

"Gone," Jack said as though it did not need to be said.

"Exactly," Hiccup replied and stared at his friend. "Don't you get it? Until death takes everyone everywhere, no one is really dead. My father will never stop affecting my life as long as I live… as long as anyone he touched lives. And even after that… generations down the line when they've forgotten his name he'll continue to live because they live. They live because he died, and kept me alive, and gave me the chance to figure out how to save his… our people from Drago. Stoick the Vast can't die 'til everything else is dead… and then it won't really matter."

"I remember those children," Jack mumbled. "They were afraid. They knew they were going to die, but I remember them."

"It's like what you said about you not being real 'til someone believed in you. But how did you get someone to believe in you if you weren't already real? You were real because you remembered who you were… are."

Against all probability, Hiccup struck a blow against his gloom and put a dent in his depression. Tangents of thought Jack never considered opened to him, and he started to see a way out of the darkness. The vision of those dim, pale objects – things he thought of as the last remnants of a person – disappearing so completely into the void still rattled him. Moreover, he could not get the enormous sounds of his head.

"The Breathless One did something to me, Hiccup," Jack said while gazing into the far off distance. "It pushed… forced the knowledge of what it was doing into my head… my mind. I can never forget that it's more than just death. It's… annihilation of everything a person is."

Hiccup watched Jack's face. He could not deny a fundamentally profound experience afflicted his friend, and he did not believe for one second he could provide complete answers. Jack existed in a world Hiccup could scarcely imagine, yet he somehow believed all Jack did so thoroughly grounded him in the mortal world that many of the same rules for living applied. Hiccup also thought he possessed a bit of information that would truly affect the elemental man as strongly as the recent experience. Since he could not fathom what it would be like to face death as an entity, he used his trump card.

"They miss you, Jack," he quietly said even though it bore no relation to the floating young-looking Guardian's last statement.

"Who?" Jack automatically and almost vacantly replied.

"The children. They miss watching you work, the snowball fights, and hearing your laugh. A few begged me if I knew where you went and to explain if you're angry with them," Hiccup reported some of what he heard. "They need you."

"I let them down," the Guardian responded and sagged.

"Not yet," Hiccup quickly countered. "You will if you completely disappear from their lives. Since you got here, winter seems more… special… and it never was like that before on Berk."

"Thou hast a duty, youngling. Either thou lives by the charge for which thy life wert created and see to it, or thou will be severed from powers of my demesne. If thou seeks death, then it shall be granted to thee," Thursar H'rim's voice rattled in Jack's ears. "Thou chose a good mortal friend, Isemaler. Heed his wise counsel."

"Thunder?" Hiccup whispered and looked up at the roof.

"Hiccup, are you afraid to die?" Jack asked while too many conflicting thoughts warred in his mind.

"What?"

"Death. Are you afraid of death?"

"I… don't know. I mean, after what I've heard from you, it doesn't sound too pleasant," Hiccup replied, and then he, too, looked into the distance. "When my dad died… he looked kind of peaceful, like he left the world knowing he did something important even if it meant the end of him. So, I think maybe I don't want to die, but I know it's going to happen. I'll do whatever it takes to hold it off for as long as possible."

"And if you're duty requires it?" Jack challenged.

"I don't think I can do any less than my father did," Hiccup rejoined in a defensive manner. "Wait? Are you afraid of death?"

"I'm afraid… of… the Breathless One," the immortal cautiously admitted.

"That makes sense. It'd probably scare the crap right out of me if I saw what you saw."

"What good am I if I can't save them from that?" Jack finally asked the one question that most plagued him.

"Is it even your job to fight death?" Hiccup rounded on him.

"My duty is to protect children!"

"I thought you said you're the Spirit of Fun?"

"Among other things, but I'm a Guardian first."

"A Guardian of what?" The young Viking man hotly inquired.

Hiccup did not want to openly confess he did not feel real anger. He knew what could happen to a person, even if one happened to be immortal, if that person wallowed in doubt and fear and uncertainty for too long. It would sap the will. Of all his recent personal struggles that fight proved the hardest for him. Thus, if making Jack angry could snap him out of the malaise, Hiccup thought it worth it.

Jack's eyes narrowed and he said: "They never really told me. It was always about protecting the children."

"From what?" Hiccup snorted.

Jack opened his mouth, and no words fell out.

"Wait. You don't even know what you're guarding them against?"

The Spirit of Fun hung motionless in the air while he sorted through his memories to find the answer. The only concrete statement he ever received came from Santa Claus who helped him define his mission, his purpose, as a Guardian, and he became the Spirit of Fun. Without directly thinking about it, Jack reached into the pocket of sweatshirt and dug around. He kept a wide assortment of bits and bobs in there, but one in particular sprang to mind. He found it, and pulled it out. The small, painted final nesting doll sat smiling in his hand.

"Misery," he whispered to the doll.

"What?" Hiccup demanded.

"I'm supposed to protect them from misery and boredom and dullness and mindless routine," Jack answered, but not to the Viking.

The best jostled and squeaked. Jacked gazed at the tiny blue doll in his hand before closing his fingers around it, and then glanced up. He saw Hiccup's naked butt while the young chieftain went to his bureau, opened a drawer, and started pulling out various pieces of clothing. Jack could not help but note again the lean, hard frame of his friend. He saw scars he never noticed before. A few old bruises also remained. Hiccup did not seem to mind being briefly nude, but quickly put on undergarments. Then, the Viking carried out the tradition of bundling up against the cold. Minutes later, he stood before the immortal wrapped in layers of pants and sweaters, all of which he covered with his heavy cloak.

"Come on," Hiccup ordered. "Follow me."

Without waiting to see if the immortal did as requested, Hiccup turned and walked to the stairwell. As he started descend, he briefly looked behind.

"Don't just float there, move it!" He said as if instructing one of the younger dragon riders.

Jack watched his friend climb down and disappear from view. He then heard footsteps below. Something compelled him to follow, and he privately admitted he did not wish to be alone with his memories of the Breathless One. He righted himself, called his staff to his hand, started to float downward. He instantly changed into his immaterial form as he sank through the floor. Before Jack made it through, he heard the creaking of the front door and light streamed into the house. A Hiccup-shaped shadow lay on the floor.

"You need to tell Lord of Winter to ease the cold a little," Hiccup complained. "This is terrible."

"I will not!" Thursar H'rim rumbled.

"He says he won't," Jack said while coming up behind the young chieftain.

Instinct took over again and he slipped from visibility. Hiccup spun his head around and peered into the house.

"Where are you?"

"Right here," Jack grumbled.

"Good, follow me."

Jack found Hiccup's demeanor a bit impertinent. They tended to treat one another as equals up to that point. The Viking reached back, grabbed the door handle, and closed the portal. Jack finished moving through it. As though certain the immortal would follow, Hiccup walked down the steps and onto the path. Mounds of snows reaching mid-throat in height to the young mortal man towered on either side. It gleamed in hues of blues, subtle purple, and white. Jack reached his hand out felt the crystals pass through his insubstantial fingers. It tickled his sensed and made them tingle in response.

Hiccup walked with purposed down the hill, past the longhouse where several people called out to get his attention, and simply waved in response. From there he took the ice and snow covered walkway to the heart of the village, passing the unique Berkian structures now built to withstand the weight of dragons instead of their flames. As the neared the town center, Hiccup stopped. Jack floated up next him.

"There," Hiccup whispered. "Is that what you want to exist in this world… or any world?"

To one side a small group of children toyed in the snow, but their actions seemed mechanical. One young girl kicked lazily at a snow bank. A boy tried to stack snowballs that would not stay together on top of one another. Another child dragged a stick in the hardened slush of the alleyway. A fourth just stood looking out and up the snow crusted hill.

"Where is the wonder in that, Spirit of Fun?" The Viking pressed his point. "Isn't that a different form of death? Death by boredom?"

The words stung Jack deep in his chest. Everything about the scene before him violated his sense of rightness. He said nothing while he floated forward until he reached the small group. He stood next to the girl abusing the snowbank, and he recognized her face. Jack took his staff and with the butt end he drew a simple snowflake outline into the side of it. Bits of hard pack tumbled down. He looked at his design and decided it needed to really show the complex nature of a snowflake. Jack raised his right hand. Using his finger, he began to ornament his initial drawing. He did not hear the small gasp next to him or saw the young girl back up.

"Good," he mumbled to himself when he finished. "But no two flakes are ever the same."

Jack started on another drawing. While still hexagonal, the new one differed dramatically in the way the he created the blocky shapes verses the delicate lines of the first. This snowflake, he told himself, needed more mass. It needed to be bold. Jack applied himself.

Behind him the four children gathered and watched and broad smiles lined their faces. Behind them stood their chieftain who smiled as well. The second snowflake magically reached completion. Next to it, a third began to take shape. It looked wildly different from the first two.

"Hello, Isemaler," Hiccup softly said.

"Isemaler!" Goatteeth squealed and clapped his gloved hands.

The name got repeated by the excited children. Gradually, Jack allowed himself to become partially visible. He turned and looked at the children. Each beamed a spectacular smile at him. One girl, bearing the unfortunate name of Applewart, stepped forward.

"Where did you go?" She asked the magical being. "Didn't you like us anymore?"

"Don't ever think that," Jack replied as the sight of the worried little face hit him like boulder. "I… there was something I had to see to that… it wasn't fun."

"Are you going to stay?" Goatteeth begged.

"Some days I have to go and see children on other islands, and some who are on boats out on the ocean where it's not always a good place for ones like you."

"But you'll come back to us?" Gouty begged the barely visible being, and Hiccup determined once and for all to ban the use of terrible names.

"It's not as much fun where you're not here," Applewart complained.

Jack looked at the faces. Then he looked up at Hiccup. The chieftain nodded. Hiccup smiled, and then turned to head back up the hill. His own duties awaited him. He felt certain the only cure for what ailed his friend came in the form of his purpose. Jack, the young mortal man figured out, needed to confront that which should be the most important thing in the immortal's life. Children would die no matter what either of them did, but they could each work to make their young lives better in one or another. The world, Hiccup knew all too well, could be a harsh and vicious place. Sometimes the only thing keeping utter despair at bay came in the form of simple delights. Sometimes a single snowflake could make all the difference.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	7. Chapter 7

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Seven**

by D. O'Shae

Word spread rapidly among the children that Isemaler returned to their island. Jack spent three days trying to make amends for his extended absence. Moreover, each trick he worked with cold or ice or snow meant he repeatedly defied the Breathless One. His time spent with the children did help restore him, but he knew he would always carry a scar of what he witnessed under the ocean. It marred him too deeply to ever forget.

On the evening of the third day when Lord of Winter covered the land in a new, light coating of frozen powder, Jack flew up into the sky. His time spent with the children brought many questions to mind as to what the primordial winter spirit did and why. He did not travel into the cloud bank when he reached sufficient altitude.

"Thursar H'rim," he called out. "I am like you, but I am very different."

"Assuredly," the immortal answered.

"You helped the Breathless One that day. You do know that?"

"I neither help nor hinder that being," Thursar H'rim refuted. "'Twas not my choice or making what sent that ship sailing, stripling."

"But you brought the waves and the storm…"

"What of it, Isemaler?"

A powerful blast of cold air tinged with power slammed against Jack. It pushed him back and downward.

"Thou who liveth in the cold, who canst live without it, would mock the one who brings it?" Thursar H'rim rumbled at him in a frightening voice. "Thou charges me with an intent with which thou hast no right or need. Thou knows not my mind nor my purpose, and still thee accuses! Fie!"

Another wind stronger than the first buffeted Jack. He tumbled through the air. Up to that point he did not feel fear, but he suffered a reminder of the power Thursar H'rim commanded.

"Thou art abused in spirit, and thee seeks to place blame like a mortal child weeping over a lost sweet. Dost thou think all ills can be erased from mortal kind? What then becomes of their world? Thou seest death in true form, thou who suffered death once, and still thee cannot see!"

"See what?" Jack yelled.

A face as large as the first when he met Thursar H'rim appeared, emerged from the cloud bank and glared at him. Jack suddenly began to wonder if he overstepped his sense of caution and reason. However, he wanted answers.

"Nothing thou endeavors will ever belay the Breathless One. It cares not what thou believes or thinks, Jack Frost, and it will never answer to thee! Thou art but an insignificant mote to one such of its kind. It roamed the skies, the heavens, long before thou bore thought even once, and long shall it move when what thou becomes forgotten for eons," Thursar H'rim blared at him with thunder and wind.

The words tore at Jack as strongly as the wind.

"Thou should take refuge in the sagacity of thine compatriot as I instructed thee. Thou cannot fight death, Isemaler. Thou canst only bring brief respite to those whole dwell within its shadow. See to thine purpose and protest to me no more with thy mewling cavils!"

The thunderclap sent the young immortal spinning head over heels through the air. Jack felt the presence of Thursar H'rim recede back into the clouds while he fought to regain control over his motion. What answers he received did not sit well in his mind. Lord of Winter seemed scarcely inclined to feel any remorse of those who got lost at sea due to his power. Thursar H'rim implied the people in the boat died of their own stupidity since they chose to travel the waters in the winter when weather could not be fully predicted. At the same time, Jack thought of those who froze to death for one reason or another on Halla as well as Earth.

Jack did not direct his questions to anyone when he spoke: "Is this all we are: unfeeling, uncaring wielders of might? Don't we have a responsibility to look after those affected by what we do?"

No one answered him. He veered eastward and followed the arch of the islands under the cover of Thursar H'rim. As he said to those on Berk, other children needed his gifts during the brutal winter days. He went to fulfill his duty. However, Jack Frost did not go forth in the merriest of moods.

Two days later and far below and to the west, Hiccup sat in the great hall listening to his people after having eaten. A great general discussion took place regarding what to do about ice floes that, larger than normal, tore apart the docks. While dragons could be used for transport on and off the island of Berk, sustenance garnered from the sea required ships and the ships required docks upon which to unload their cargo. Several of the villagers demanded that Hiccup use his inventive genius to devise new docks. During that portion of the talk, it slowly changed.

"What does he care about the docks?" Smelt the Odorous protested. "What do any of the dragons needs docks for?"

"We have to eat, too," Hiccup loudly retorted. "Don't think for one second we don't know how indebted we are the fisherman!"

Cheers and jeers rose up.

"What would a soft-pants like you know about hard work?" Someone yelled.

The room suddenly settled. The insult contained many subtle elements, but one rose above the rest. For the first time, somebody lobbed a real slur at Hiccup regarding his sexuality. He thought, hoped, the issue died over the preceding weeks, but it seemed to not be the case. Hiccup slowly rose, his face set in angry lines, and looked out over the assembled. Most returned the gaze with a worried countenances, several seemed indifferent, but a few – too many by his count – sneered at him. He met the expression with equal hardness.

"Really? Is that the best you can do? Soft-pants? What are you… six?" He retorted in controlled, tight manner.

Many in the crowd chuckled or snickered at his rejoinder. He waited to see who would respond. When no one did, he got angry.

"Right! Okay! Hide in the crowd. Afraid to stand up and be counted for what you said? Huh?"

A murmur ran through the hall. One person stepped forward, and the gasp of a number of people echoed what Hiccup felt. A circle opened around the lone figure. Sledgehead stood alone and glared at him.

"I said it," the beefy Viking said loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's not just your pants that are soft: it's gone to your head, too."

"Really?" Hiccup snorted in disbelief and some disappointment.

"You're a liar, Hiccup, an…"

"Oh, now, we have a wee problem here," Gobber interrupted him while changing the gadget on his arm for a heavy hammer.

"You're just as bad," Sledgehead shot at Hiccup's mentor. "Was it you who turned him like this? Huh? All those years just you and him alone in the smithy and something had to happen!"

Gobber started to step forward and the young chieftain thought it fairly certain he would dismantle Sledgehead in front of everyone. The younger man, and not much older than Hiccup, would not fare well in a scrap with Gobber who served as the village smith, dragon dentist, and formidable warrior. Granted, Sledgehead possessed strength and willingness to fight, but Gobber's decades of dragon fighting, as well as Viking fighting, guaranteed the young brown-eyed, black-haired man dressed in various layers of sheepskin would spend weeks in bed recuperating if he survived. Hiccup held out an arm and restrained the brawny, one-handed man.

"What's your problem with me?" Hiccup blandly asked, and it effectively masked his trepidation.

The crowd shifted silently to watch the answer.

"Plenty, and for starters you really hurt Astrid because you lied to her all these years, and that ain't the first time you lied to all of us, either!"

"Oh!"

"Oh, yeah," Sledgehead said and sounded confident. "I seem to recall somebody hiding a night fury from everyone and cheating in the dragon ring a few years back. Seems you've got a history of lying to everyone in the village."

The audience swung the other way.

"First off, I didn't lie about Toothless," Hiccup said and retained his upright posture, standing on the dais. "You're right: I did hide him, but that's not lying. Second, everyone would've tried to kill him if I showed him right away. Where would we be now if I let that happen? And I wouldn't call what I did in the dragon ring cheating."

The villagers mumbled to one another as if grading his response.

"As far as Astrid goes, I don't think that's any of your business."

"It is when I've got to comfort her night after night while she tries to figure you out and why you never trusted her enough to tell her the truth!" Sledgehead hurled the words as if he just threw a hammer.

"I already told her why."

The throng in the hall whispered again, and Hiccup got the distinct feeling they sided with Sledgehead.

"Maybe, maybe not, but that ain't all," the Viking said and then turned in a slow circle to look at the assembled. "Who here hasn't heard him talking to himself? How many here might've heard from a son or daughter or brother or sister – for me it was my nephew – about Hiccup talking to spirits? Huh?'

A rumble spread among the people. They turned and looked at Hiccup.

"What harm is there in playing along and letting them think something special and magical is happening here on Berk?" Hiccup challenged not only Sledgehead, but the entire village. "How many dark days do they get through being happier and thinking they don't have to dread winter? Is it better if they think winter is horrible and they need to be depressed all to the time? Do you really want to force that on children, Sledgehead?"

A clear debate emerged as people put their heads together. Hiccup knew this to be Berkian politics at its best or worst, depending on which side the verdict fell. He did not break his gaze with the man standing across the hall from him. An idea of where this might be headed formed in his mind.

"No, this isn't just play talking for kiddies: they say this Isemaler is real and you know him… you talk to him and can conjure him up. This… ghost says you're the first friend he had on Berk if what my nephew says is true," Sledgehead stated a fairly accurate account despite not knowing that.

"I'm not going to stand here and argue the merits of a child's imagination," the young chieftain tried to dismiss the story. "What's your point?"

"The point is you're not fit to lead us anymore," Sledgehead announced, drawing gasps from the crowd. "Your dragon might've saved us from Bludvist, but the only reason Drago showed up in the first place was 'cause of you. I've thought about it. All the trouble we've had the last five years started when you found that night fury!"

Green eyes met brown, and Hiccup stood his ground. In the back of his mind, he did a quick tally and found Sledgehead could make a case of that. The alternative, however, worked to Hiccup's advantage.

"So, you'd rather go back to the days when the dragons raided us to feed the Red Death, burned our houses to ground, killed scores of us to protect themselves, and pretty much made life a living hell here on Berk? That sounds better to you?" He challenged.

As one the villagers turned to watch Sledgehead. Horns from many helmets, worn despite the cold temperatures, waved like a strange stand of vegetation. Hiccup found it oddly hypnotic. Yet he waited with the same tension he felt emanating around him. His challenger glanced about and looked cornered.

"What I want," Sledgehead began in his rather impressive baritone voice, "is a leader I don't have to worry about. I want a chief who is going to be the same tomorrow as yesterday. I want one who makes decisions for us and not for dragons. I want a chieftain who actually looks like a Viking!"

Sledgehead skillfully sidestepped Hiccup's statements and made an appeal to the basic nature of Vikings about who and what made one a Viking. The young chieftain felt the mood in the room shift. He glanced at this mother, and she looked worried. Gobber also appeared pensive. The entire scene made Hiccup feel tired. He dragged a hand down his face, and stared at the defiant Sledgehead. The Viking stood in the ring of open space, his feet separated and planted into a fighting stance. That, he finally recognized, looked to be one of the man's goals. He did not just want to call Hiccup out: he wanted to humiliate him.

"So… you think I should step down as chieftain?" Hiccup calmly asked, and another wave of shock rippled through the crowd. "Or do you want to fight me for it?"

"You're choice," Sledgehead said with a noticeable amount of manic glee in his voice.

"Fine. It's yours. Be the chieftain," Hiccup said and began to step down from the dais.

"Hiccup?" Gobber asked the question with his name.

"No, Gobber, it's not worth the fight," he replied. "Look around. It's not just him. I'll bet a lot of people here agree with Sledgehead. Personally, I don't feel like fighting. He wants to be chieftain and people want him to be it? Go right ahead!"

Hiccup completed stepping down. The throng parted for him as he walked up to Gothi. The tiny elder Viking looked up at him with questions in her blue, slightly rhumey eyes. Hiccup smiled at her. He always like ancient woman.

"I relinquish the chiefdom, Gothi. Give it to whoever wants it. I'm going home to get some sleep," he told her.

Slowly and with a sad expression in her eyes, Gothi nodded her head and step aside. Hiccup continued walking. He walked past Sledgehead who now seemed entirely confused by the turn of events. As if it hit him just that second, he tried to reach out and grab Hiccup's arm, but Hiccup proved too fast.

"You need to stay and acknowledge the new chief!" The man all but ordered.

"Not if I'm leaving in the morning," Hiccup answered.

A real gasp went through the room.

"See? See how he just abandons us?" Sledgehead inquired of village.

"No, Sledge, the village abandoned me. No one beside Gobber stood up on my side and told you you're wrong. I'm not stupid. If they're not happy with me, then that's the way it is," he said and gazed at the room. "I'm not leaving because I can't be chief, in case you're thinking that. I'm leaving 'cause I'm tired of trying to help everyone and getting nowhere with it. I guess they don't want or need my help. Fine."

He turned and continued walking toward the door.

"Well, I think I'll join him," Gobber harrumphed.

"You can't leave! You're the smith!" Sledgehead yelled at him.

Gobber, despite missing parts of two limbs, stalked through the gathering straight up to Sledgehead. The younger Viking looked worried, if not outright afraid, at the smith's approach. Gobber's small eyes bore straight into Sledgehead's.

"And ye're going to stop me?" He quietly asked.

Sledgehead shook his head back and forth.

"Then step aside, junior."

The younger Viking did and the older one continued walking after Hiccup.

"I guess you won't be needing me, either," Valka stated.

A groan went through the collective. Her ability with and knowledge of dragons long since impressed the entire village. She became vital to their lives as they worked to understand the creatures who shared the island with them. Valka followed after Gobber. She stopped when she got to Sledgehead.

"You think it's easy, but you'll learn," she said, and it managed to sound nasty through a sweet voice.

Worried faces watched as she continued her walk to the front doors of the longhouse.

"Um, I just don't want to stick around if he's chief," Fishlegs announced from where he stood.

Ruffnut, Snotlout, and Tuffnut spun around to look at him.

"Hiccup's our best friend. We wouldn't have dragons if it wasn't for him," Fishlegs told them. "Besides, Sledgehead is an ass and he's always been mean to me."

"You're not leaving!" Sledgehead snarled.

"Oh, and yoo and what army are going to make him stay?" Gobber's voice rang out from near the doors. "Between me, Hiccup, Valka, Grump, Toothless and Cloudjumper, I'd say ye'd have a rough go of it."

The threat slammed into Sledgehead who looked like Gobber punched him in the side of the skull. Fishlegs wasted no time and trotted after the others. Faces sagged as the villagers looked at the three standing by the door. Hiccup scanned them and saw what they were thinking. It seemed alright if he stepped down as chief, but they would still have access to his knowledge and skills. Losing him hurt. However, the blow to the community became immeasurable when Gobber stood by his young friend. The loss of the village smith, and his only apprentice, became a serious matter. Valka's departure also held important ramifications since the likelihood of dragons leaving Berk significantly increased. Finally, Fishlegs represented the final piece of bad luck. His intellectual prowess, size, and skills proved vital too often. Coupled with Hiccup's inventiveness, they made life easier on Berk. All in all, Berk now faced a crisis the likes of which few could take full measure.

"Hiccup?" Mosshair said his name in a small, apprehensive voice. "Will Isemaler come back if you're not here?"

Hiccup crouched down, smiled at her, and said: "His duty is to children everywhere, so I'd say you'll see him again."

"Are you coming back?" She asked.

"They don't need me, Mosshair, so I don't have anything to come back to."

A small tear rolled down her ruddy cheek.

"I'm going to miss you, too," Hiccup said and wiped it from her face with a thumb.

He stood, looked at the assembled, who to a person now appeared ashen and frightened. Hiccup slowly shook his head. He loved his people, but now he realized he had to love himself as well. It did not work if he never received any just compensation in the form of friendship and loyalty. Having watched Jack confront and wrestle with confronting the Breathless One reminded Hiccup that some battles not only could not be won, but even starting it lacked value. He would not fight Berk. He could not willingly raise arms against any of the people, and he would never use Toothless as a weapon against them.

"Good-bye," he quietly said.

Hiccup, his mother, Gobber, and Fishlegs all strolled out of the longhouse into the cold, dark night.

"Well, now. What'll we do since we're homeless?" Gobber inquired as they walked down the steps.

Behind them chaos erupted in the longhouse. Sledgehead's rule as chieftain, if he did indeed garner enough support, got off to a cacophonous start. The yelling they heard as it drifted through the open door nearly sounded like panic. Sledgehead's voice rose every once in a while, but it got repeatedly got drowned out.

"Do you think they'll make it?" Fishlegs asked.

"I don't know," Hiccup replied. "They're not too good at organizing themselves.

The quartet continued walking along the path toward the house shared by Hiccup and his mother.

"Well, it's ye're fault, ye know," Gobber commented.

"How is it my fault?" Hiccup bristled.

"Ye did all the thinking for them. Ye and Fishlegs and a few of the others always got it figured out whenever they asked, so I'd say it all comes down to yoo," the stout elder Viking smugly replied.

"Wait a second! Hold on! Weren't you the one who said that's the way it is with Vikings? That it was my job and responsibility?"

"I didn't think ye'd listen. Yer father never did."

Valka snorted. Hiccup bit his tongue and rolled his eyes. Gobber grinned at him. Fishlegs watched the exchange with a pensive expression.

"Ye know, Stoick used to give me the exact same look," Hiccup's mentor said and laughed.

It broke the tension. The four aimed for the house and a warmer environment. They quickened their pace. The noise from the longhouse continued to roll through the village. The second leg of Viking politics began to take shape, Hiccup thought. Now came the blame game and figuring out who would do what. In some ways, he thought the village might be doomed. Once inside the house, they began to discuss their situation.

"So, what are we going to do? My ma and pa are going to kill me," Fishlegs said in a rush.

"First off, we're not homeless," Hiccup told him while Valka and Gobber stoked the fires and he lit the lamps.

"We're not?"

"I've got caves set up on about a dozen islands stretching out for hundreds of leagues," he informed his mother and friends. "How do you think I survived all those times me and Toothless would head out alone?"

Fishlegs' face brightened as he slipped out of his heavy cloak.

"But is it enough for all of us and our dragons?" Valka interjected, and she peeled off a layer of clothing as well.

"Well, I figure the dragons can hunt for themselves," Hiccup began.

"Right. Have ye see Grump lately?" Gobber asked while taking a seat at the table. It groaned under his weight. He tugged at his long blond and gray mustache. "Eating he can do. Hunting? Not so much."

"If he gets hungry enough, you watch, Gobber," Valka chipped in.

Gobber shrugged and opened his jacket that Hiccup and Valka could easily occupy with space to spare.

"Between all the supplies I've stashed over the years, we'll be comfortable well into the spring," Hiccup told them.

"And then?" Fishlegs asked, looking furtive once more.

"By then we can figure out if we want to find another clan or just establish a new home for ourselves on one of the islands."

While the other three exchanged puzzled looks, Hiccup quickly but carefully ran to and up the stairs to his bedroom. He returned less than a minute later. In his hand he clutched his fabled map book. He went to the table and started to unfold it. Valka nodded in appreciation. Her son took her maps, incorporated those, and continued to expand his exploration. They studied his drawing and notations.

"Here are the islands we know to stay away from," and he pointed out the places where either a clan or dragons would not welcome outsiders. "And these are too small do anything with, but a lot of them have resources we can use."

Again, the others watched as he pointed out a significant number of locations on the map. Once the hostile and uninhabitable points got eliminated, it left slim pickings. However, Hiccup did not seem distressed.

"Now here," Hiccup said and pointed to a larger, irregularly shaped island far to the east and south of Berk, "doesn't look like much and I've found an old site where someone tried to settle, but they didn't know where to look and they either died or left."

"And where would that be?" Gobber asked and appeared skeptical.

"I didn't find it until last spring, but…"

Hiccup paused while he pulled out a second, much smaller map. It showed the island in greater detail. Everyone stared at the strange markings on it. They could see where Hiccup marked the old settlement attempts. A long scar marred the northern portion. The former Viking chieftain smirked.

"This crevice runs for about two-thirds the length of island and it's not what it looks like… even from the air," Hiccup announced showing the east-west squiggly line in the northern section. "It looks volcanic, but once I got inside… it's a valley at least as big as Berk and protected from weather. It's as wide as the entire northern half. You should see the wildlife in there!"

"But living underground?" Valka skeptically inquired.

"It gets sunlight all day. I've got a camp set up in there," he told her. "Plus, there's a river running through it that dumps out into the sea where we could put in a harbor."

"This is a natural fortress," Gobber mumbled to himself, but Hiccup caught the approving tone of his mentor.

"Hold on, is this where you'd hide when none of us could find you?" Fishlegs queried.

Hiccup nodded and said: "Well, one of the places."

"Sounds comfy," Gobber stated in a satisfied manner. "And you know about a third of Berk is going to come looking for us once that fatheaded fool fouls everything up. We might not be there long 'til they want ye back."

"I don't want to be chief again, Gobber… at least not like I was. We've got to figure out a different way to govern ourselves because depending on just one or two people to do it all doesn't work," the ex-chieftain gravely stated. "Besides, I'm not going to tell anyone I don't trust about the island. We'll figure out who we can trust."

"How?" Fishlegs demanded and sat down.

Hiccup and Valka followed suit and each took a seat.

"Don't worry: I've got someone who will keep an eye on things here and let me know what's going on."

Son and mother glanced at each other.

"Who? Isemaler?" The stout younger Viking jokingly inquired.

"Sure, Isemaler," Hiccup sarcastically replied, but it masked the truth. "Don't worry about who."

Gobber stretched his legs and crossed his beefy arms over his ample stomach. He watched Hiccup for a few moments. Finally, he said: "Ye've been planning this for a while, haven't ye?"

"Planning what?"

"Giving up Berk."

"Not really. I just knew it was a matter of time before they got sick of me," Hiccup answered. "I wasn't enough like them, like Dad, to make them really believe in me as chief. Then finding out who I… well, let's be honest, I like men and that didn't add any confidence in me. This was bound to happen sooner or later, so I just sort of made preparations."

"You're wrong about that, Hiccup," Fishlegs mumbled.

All eyes turned to him.

"People are afraid of you," his friend stated.

"Yeah, right!"

"No, they are," Fishlegs continued. "I hear what they say when you're not around. I'm kind of invisible to a lot of people, which is why I decided to come along with you. You always treated me like a real friend, Hiccup."

"Because you are my real friend, Fishlegs!"

"But what's your point?" Valka inquired.

"He's too smart for most people… like me. Most of the time they can't figure out what he's planning and it only makes sense to them when they see it working. It's like your whole idea about the folding docks. It solves a big problem, but they won't get it until they see it in action. In the meantime they just think you're this scary, smart dragon rider."

"That's preposterous!" Hiccup exclaimed, rejecting the entire notion.

"Who else has a night fury?" Fishlegs quietly asserted with the question.

"Well, it's not like there's thousands of night furies flying around everywhere."

"That's true, but you caught one using your net cannon. Once we found out about Toothless and how it happened, everyone in the village started looking at you different. Then everything you did with the Dragon Academy… Hiccup, they don't understand where you get half these ideas… and the things you make and… " and Fishlegs ran out of words.

"Aye, he's got a point, Hiccup. Once folks started taking ye serious, it made 'em step back. Don't know as I'd say they're afraid, but Fishlegs is mostly right," Gobber chimed in. "Ye were always a little different… little strange but not in the Mildew way if ye take my meaning."

"And nobody thought to tell me this until now?" He railed at his friends. "If I knew that, maybe all… this could've been avoided!"

"Now, Hiccup, I'm not sure it would. You can't help but be who you are, and it's always going to set you apart a ways," his mother said in gentle tones.

"Maybe if I said something when I first figured it out," he grumbled.

"That wouldn't've made one bit of difference. Trust me on this one," Gobber told him and sounded a bit irritated. "Besides, that doesn't stop ye from being a big smarty pants. Maybe it's part of the reason ye got so clever. No, what's done is done, and what ye are is what ye are. Don't regret it. I never did."

Hiccup opened his mouth to argue, and then shut it when he realized the pointlessness of doing so. First, arguing with Gobber at times amounted to arguing with a brick wall. Once the man set his mind, it took serious work to change it. Second, Gobber's reasoning seemed hard to refute. Finally, no amount of arguing would change what happened. He nodded.

"Okay, then," Gobber said and sat up much to the dislike of the chair. "What do we need to do to get ready?"

"Just pack whatever clothes and personal stuff you want to take with you and some food for at least two day's flight… and any tools that are yours," Hiccup said and looked at the few who stood by them. "We leave at first light, snow or no snow."

The foursome looked at one another. The reality of the situation slowly started to sink in. Hiccup looked to his mother and remembered she did something similar long ago, except a dragon helped her decided to leave. Gobber appeared strangely bored. He saw so much in his life that change probably did not frighten him since it seemed inevitable. Lastly, Fishlegs looked scared, but he also seemed determined. Of all his friends, it dawned on Hiccup he and the stout young man shared the most in common. They both occupied an outsider status to one degree or another. One thing Hiccup did know about the assembled: he could not have picked three better people to take along on such a venture.

Hiccup did not get enough sleep. He suspected none of them did. For starters, packing took longer than he thought. When Toothless arrived just as their impromptu meeting broke, the creature appeared perplexed at the activity. His great yellow-green eyes watched the goings-on, looked questioningly at Hiccup, and did not quite understand what the young Viking man told him. The dragon seemed agitated while he tried to settle, but not ever quite managed to shake it off and rest. The dragon rider suffered the same.

The young Viking, soon to be self-exiled from the only home he knew, looked up into the darkness many times that night. He stared at the place where he secreted a note only a one who could fly without the aid of a dragon would find it. Did enough of it show to get the attention of a specific person, he wondered. The he pondered if the note contained enough information to tell Jack what to do. The line of thinking led to another. Hiccup admitted to himself he missed Jack when the elemental went off to perform his duties. Although they came from two different worlds, and about a different as one could imagine, he found a lot in common with the Guardian. Jack seemed to understand the trials Hiccup faced. In an even stranger turn, Hiccup knew he helped his friend after returning from the encounter with the Breathless One. He sighed as a form of loneliness he never experienced nibbled at the edge of his mind.

"I hope you can find me again, Jack," the Viking whispered into the velvety dark. Toothless quietly rumbled in his nest.

When morning light came, Hiccup instructed his dragon friend to wait outside. Toothless managed to crawl through the hastily repaired trap door. Gray light hit Hiccup's eyes, giving him the first impression of what the day might hold. He spent a few moments gathering the packs he carefully selected and packed the evening before. The bags would be laid out and tied together on Toothless' back so as to distribute the weight and not interfere with the movement of his wings. Satisfied he packed as much as he could carry to meet his needs, Hiccup put on his toughest and warmest flying gear, grabbed his father's cloak, and started hauling the packs to the front stoop of the house. He saw his mother staring down the hill.

"I don't believe last night went as successfully as Sledgehead hoped," Valka said and pointed down the path.

Numerous people and a many dragons lined the path. The all carried bags, packs, and rolls of various fashions. Hiccup shook his head and walked down to the first gathering of people. Voice rose when he approached. He held up his hand.

"I don't know what you're thinking, but you're not going with me," the young Viking man flatly and firmly told them.

Protestations rose up.

"No!" He rejected their calls. "Where were you last night when Sledgehead challenged me? None of you standing here stood on my side, and only three people joined me as I left. Those are the ones going with me; those are the ones I can count on!"

"You can't do this to us, Hiccup!" Dungdung said, and she sound both angry and scared from what he could see of her face that remained exposed. "They don't know what they're doing up in the longhouse, and we won't make it through the winter!"

"That's not my problem anymore. You're the ones who supported Sledgehead with your silence when he challenged me…"

"You didn't even fight!" Scabby, and elderly Viking man, yelled from off to the side.

"Is that what it takes to convince you I'm worthy to lead? Do I have to kill someone, one of the clan, to prove myself?" Hiccup yelled back and scrutinized everyone he could see. "If that's what you want, then count me out. I'm not going to kill anyone just to make you happy. I'm not Alvin or Drago!"

Those two names drove home his point. He fixed them with a mean stare and said: "Spread the word: you're not going with me. If you try to follow, I will drive you back!"

Several gasps met his pronouncement. He did not wait to continue the argument. Hiccup turned and stomped back to the house. He watched his mother as she watched the activity below them.

"They're in disarray down there, son. They didn't think you'd mean it," Valka told him.

"I do, and I'll prove that if I have to," he replied.

She nodded, but did not smile, and said: "Fishlegs and Gobber are 'round back. We're ready to go when you are."

"Are you?" Hiccup seriously asked his mother.

"Hiccup, this isn't the first time I've been on my own," Valka replied. She wore the same outfit Hiccup first saw her wear when flying on Cloudjumper. "This time I'm not alone, so I am more than ready. Remember, son, you didn't ask us to follow: we chose to go with you."

Hiccup found that answer eminently satisfying. The smirk on his face, however, did not convey humor. His mother returned a similar expression. With that, Hiccup slipped his fur-lined helmet onto his head. He then set about the task of strapping his packs to Toothless, who waited patiently on the front porch of their soon-to-be former house. He wondered who would occupy it when everyone realized they truly left. The thought played on his mind when he mounted Toothless. His dragon jumped into the air with a powerful kick of his hind legs, exerted tremendous force on the down stroke of his wings, and they lifted into the sky.

Moments later Cloudjumper, Grump, and Meatlug joined him with their respective riders in place. Hiccup glanced at his small band. He trusted them. He needed to trust them. He hoped they trusted him in equal measure. Hiccup raised his hand. Three hands rose in response indicating their readiness. He opened his closed fist so the flat of his hand faced them. Then his lifted it higher in a fast motion. Hiccup gave the signal to fly. They did. The foursome left Berk, and no one else followed. Hiccup did not look back. He could not. Tears leaked out of his eyes under the face mask of his leather helmet.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	8. Chapter 8

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Eight**

by D. O'Shae

Three days later Jack returned to Berk on a boat. What he found made him panic. The traveling merchants who thought they found a shipwrecked young man with strange white hair also panicked. Berk appeared to be under attack. Smoke billowed from several locations, and fighting could be heard even as far down as the few undamaged docks. Jack grabbed his crook and felt power flood through his arms. The clothes on his body, the cloak on his back, and the boots on his feet made running awkward, but he managed. After traversing the switchbacks up the side of the cliff, he and the others from the boat entered the main landing area of Berk. The sound of armed conflict echoed around Jack and the small group.

People armed with weapons fought one another. Bodies and pools of blood dotted the surrounding square. Dragons gnashed their teeth and spit flame in all directions. Jack recognized the faces of the fallen. He also recognized the faces of the fighters. It dawned on him that Berkian fought Berkian. It shocked him to the core. He sought of the captain of the ship upon which he arrived. He huddled with the other crew of the ship against a building.

"What in bloody hell is going on here?" Captain Gudmund hissed at him.

"They're fighting each other," Jack replied, horrified by the events.

"Well, I can bloody well see that! But why?"

"Go back to the ship and head out a ways. Stay safe. I know my way around. I'll find out!"

Before the captain could answer, Jack took off at a fast sprint around the building, up along the edge of the square and avoided a group in a pitched battle, and behind another structure somebody set ablaze. He turned immaterial and invisible. His mortal clothing fell off and Jack found himself dressed in his Guardian garb. He willed himself naked the day before when he saw the ship and huddled next to a fire he spent hours igniting hoping to attract the vessel's attention. His ploy worked, and they took him on board with the promise to deliver him safely to Berk. They clothed and fed Jack, although Jack discovered he nearly forgot how to eat food. By the time night came and he settled in the hold, a new persona of Jacque came to life. It did not take much work to convince them he came from a long, long way off.

"What…?" He asked no one as he sailed overhead and witnessed the fighting happening all over the island.

In the distance against the northern hill he saw a shadow so dark it drank in all the light and color around it. Jack involuntarily shuddered and knew exactly what lurked on the hill. He knew why and tried to ignore it.

Gobber's smithy lay in smoking ruins. Jack made a quick search fearing he would find Hiccup's beloved friend dead in the wreckage. Not a single body lay trapped inside. Relief coursed through him while he sailed over toward the longhouse, where he saw one end smoldering and billowing smoke. Two groups of people, one that included Snotlout and Tuffnut, waged a pitched fight next to an enormous man with a bucket on his head. They struggled against four people who seemed determined to kill them. Since Jack knew them as friends of Hiccup, he swooped in for a closer view. While legs passed through his body, he coated the rock under the foursome with ice. They slipped and toppled over as Snotlout pounced. He looked entirely prepared to kill the one under foot.

"Lay off," the large man said and dragged the younger Viking away. "We've got to protect the chair and books! Go!"

While Snotlout and Tuffnut, both of whom bled from many small wounds, darted into the burning longhouse, the big man with the bucket for a helmet, missing one hand, and garbed in fur grabbed one of the floundering assailants and physically threw the man ten feet away. The flying man, who did not do so naturally, landed in a heap. The bucket-headed one did the same to the other three, although he got stabbed in the left thigh as a result. Bleeding and limping, he crab-walked to the longhouse door, went inside, and slammed them shut. Jack assumed they would be alright when he took off for another destination.

Against any logic or reason, no one fought at Hiccup's home. Part of one wall looked slightly scorched as did a section of roof by Toothless' portal, but the ice flowing down the side gave evidence a dragon of some sort extinguished the flames. Jack flew inside. Eerie quiet settled around him. Most of the belongings in the house lay overturned, some smashed, but Jack saw no blood or bodies. He flew up to Hiccup's room and met more of the same. The fire that burned the outside of the house started in Toothless' nest that looked completely charred, and the flames crept out of the clever hatchway. Jack flew up to the ceiling and looked down to see if he could spot any sign of mortal distress.

"What is going on?" He queried while turning in a circle to examine the details, and he used his magical sight to see through the dim lighting.

The room appeared mostly destroyed, but the elemental young Guardian saw nothing to indicate anyone perished in the destruction. In some ways, it looked to be revenge based on how thoroughly someone tore apart Hiccup's drafting table and implements. He started to quake at the thought his friend, a mortal for whom he came to care about rather deeply, might be taken prisoner or worse. Jack spun around again. A stray slip of folded parchment wedged between an outer joist and the wall caught his attention. Normally he would ignore it, yet it seemed completely out of place and not part of the mess below. He willed the thumb and forefinger on his left hand to solidity and tugged the scrap free.

Once of the floor and after assuming full solid form, Jacked opened the parchment. He immediately noted the script on it as coming from Hiccup's hand. Moreover, the small sketch of a dragon head facing upward in the bottom left corner looked remarkably like Toothless. The immortal did not fully understand the Berkian written word, having mastered less than half of the runes they used. He stared at the words and the small drawing. Two exes connected by a squiggly line baffled him the most. On the squiggled line were smaller exes. Jack struggled to decipher the words. Below the ex on the right, lower than the one on the left, were four words. The final one he figured out.

"Scar?" Jack grunted the word while looking around again.

He doubted the message or the hiding spot to be an accident. Hiccup, Jack guessed, left it for him since no one below would even see it. Thus, where it got placed could only be found by someone crawling around the support joists or something that could hover in the air. Hence, Hiccup meant for either him or a smaller dragon to discover the parchment. It did not look like a message for a dragon. Puzzled, Jack stuffed it into the pass-through pocket of his hooded sweatshirt for safe keeping and to examine later. The young immortal never realized he utilized a subconscious form of magic. When he decided to make something his own, it passed out of the material world into the magical one. It became bound to him. If Jack discarded something he unconsciously made his, it would rematerialize only to crumble to dust.

"Where are you, Hiccup? Valka?" He asked the quiet, smoky room.

It seemed certain that whatever answers lay in the house currently resided outside of Jack's comprehension. Turning immaterial again, he floated into the air and out of the house. The sound of fighting assaulted his ears. A contingent of angry people gathered at the longhouse and pounded on the door. Since Hiccup's friends appeared to be trapped inside, he went to the building that continued to slowly burn on one end. He found a small group gathered, huddled together behind overturned tables next to the chief's chair. An axe protruded from the seat back. It looked ominous to Jack.

"You know what they'll do when the get in here?" Ruffnut said to one Viking who looked already severely beaten. She, herself, sported a bruise and welt on her forehead just below the rim of her ever-present helmet. Dirty, sooty fingerprints marred the area as she probed it with her fingertips.

"Shut up," the man said who wore several cuts on his arms and neck. It looked to Jack like someone attempted to remove is head.

"You know I don't support you, Sledgehead" the man with the bucket on his head said. Blood oozed from a scarcely bandaged wound on his thigh. Crimson droplets lay scattered about him. "If they get in here, I'm giving you to them."

"They'll kill him, Bucket!" Astrid rounded on the man.

"He asked for it. He wanted to be chief, and this is what he gets," the one called Bucket snarled.

Sledgehead glanced nervously at Bucket. Bucket continued to glower at him. Sledgehead looked away.

"He didn't know this was going to happen!" Astrid shot back. "It's not what he wanted to happen."

"This wouldn't have gotten started if he just let Gothi appoint him," Eret, a brawny good-looking man who attracted Ruffnut much to Snotlout's chagrin.

"Hiccup never started a war like this," Tuffnut said, and slumped against the table. "I think I'm really hurt this time."

"You probably got another hour or two before you bleed to death," Snotlout commented.

"Oh, right. Okay, just let me know when I'm dead."

"I can do that."

"Shut up, you two," Astrid yelled at them. "No one else is dying today!"

The people huddled behind table snatched wary glances at one another. Then they stared at Astrid as if she lost her mind. Jack, in his invisible form, scowled at Astrid. Many already died since the Breathless One sat on the mountain and called out to the dead. Jack could hear it on the edges of his hearing, but he shut it out as best he could. It seemed quite certain the Breathless One would be busy for a while. Jack wanted to vomit.

"If he let those people go with him, we wouldn't be here right now!" Sledgehead complained. "Why couldn't he just let them follow?"

"Why should he," said Eret, son of Eret. "Had I been here when he decided to go, I would've gone, too. You started this and deserve whatever comes to you, Sledgehead!"

The two Viking stared at one another with open hatred. Jack, however, got part of an answer. Hiccup left the island if the immortal correctly heard.

"Yeah, I would've followed, too," Ruffnut dreamily mumbled.

Whatever else they said became lost to Jack. He flew up and through the roof of the longhouse. Instantly in the distance he could hear, or rather perceive, the calling of death. Jack turned his back to the repulsive waves of ethereal intent drifting toward him. Then he reached into his pocket and dug out the small piece of parchment. He studied it again.

"It's a map," he announced although none could hear. "But where does it lead? What scar?"

Despite lacking any clear notion of where to go, Jack began to soar through the air. As he explained once to Hiccup, he could achieve phenomenal speeds. In what only seemed like the blink of an eye, the Guardian hovered just under the cloud cover several miles above the world. He turned in a small circle while scanning in all directions. He stopped and examined the note again.

"Which way?" He begged the parchment. "They're killing each other!"

He focused all his attention on the map. One sentence with three words rested at the top, and he could not tease out the meaning. One ex sat on the left side. Then the squiggly line connected to another ex on the right after making lumpy curve toward the bottom. There, under the second ex, sat the sentence wherein he could read one word. Finally, he looked at the tiny drawing of Toothless' head. Jack tried to calm his mind.

"Think like Hiccup. He made this with me in mind, I know it, but… how?"

Jack thought for another minute, and a wave of foolishness swept over him as he realized what the pieces meant. The dragon head stared up at the ex on the left. Jack sailed around until Berk lay oriented on his left. Slowly, he picked out the line of islands in the late morning light. He knew the archipelago since he flew over it so many times and actually used certain islands as guide points. In his mind he could see the line leading away from Berk. With that he faced the southeast. The young immortal man focused his energies. Suddenly the seascape below him turned into a blur as he streaked across the sky. Over and over he thought of the word scar, and he made a logical leap. Hiccup gave him a marking that he could see from above. His personal mental map came into focus. Jack believed he knew right where to go.

The distance it took four dragons to cover in three days Jack crossed in two hours. He did not fly at top speed in order to make certain he did not miss the target. He stopped along the way to scan some promising islands, but none featured what he would call a scar. Island by island Jack narrowed it down to one of two possible locations. Neither seemed a likely spot to establish a home base, but Hiccup thought differently than others. He knew something, Jack decided, and now he it came down to figuring out what the Viking knew that he and possibly no one else did. High above the ocean the elemental raced to his first choice.

"There!" He said with urgent excitement and pointed to an island miles below him.

On the northern half a gouge in the land, like a scar, ran for a goodly distance. Jack rocketed toward it, feeling no heat from wind friction. He started on the western edge and found the slice in the land that opened into a cave of unimaginable proportions. Inside stood trees of many types, and animals and birds roamed the interior. Everything enjoyed protection since the opening above only spanned two hundred yards at the most. To one side a river flowed. Jack knew people needed water, so he followed it. Soon he saw a smoke trail reaching upward. Unless just dragons, the Guardian knew what caused it.

Jack sailed over the greenery in an arch toward the thin column of smoke. When he got near enough, he saw the camp site where four people he recognized worked, along with their attendant dragons, on extending the camp. The Guardian made for them. Just as he got close, he transformed into in solidity and visibility. Four dragons trumpeted, but only one did not sound alarmed. Four sets of mortal eyes turned to watch his approach.

"What in the name of Freya!" Gobber shouted and raised the axe attached to his missing limb.

"Cloudjumper, no! Isemaler… change!" Valka hollered and ran toward him while the largest dragon of the lot charged him.

The dragon's vicious claws passed right through him without leaving a mark while he ran past. Cloudjumper almost tripped over himself in astonishment. Toothless bounded toward the elemental man warbling a greeting. Because of that, both Grump and Meatlug calmed. Cloudjumper lowered into a crouch, ready to spring if needed. The people also raced toward the sudden appearance of a person.

Jack went solid again, ran up to Toothless and hurriedly said: "Where' Hiccup?"

"Ja… Isemaler, I'm right here. What's wrong?" The lean young Viking man inquired as he came running around the tail end of his dragon.

"Good gods, he's real!" Fishlegs half-yelled and stumbled.

Gobber came trotting up in his hop-skip-jump manner, axe hand raised. Jack did not waste a second and created a sheet of ice just under Gobber's feet. The man crashed to the ground.

"Hiccup, you have to go back to Berk. They're fighting… killing each other!"

Stunned silence swept over the foursome, even Gobber who slid around trying to gain his footing jerked his head up in shock. Fishlegs slowly walked toward them. Hiccup and Valka stared at Jack in disbelief.

"I don't know how it got started or why, but your people are fighting each other. People are dead… are dying. It…" and Jack shuddered at the memory, "sits over your land taking your people into the nothing!"

Blood drained from Hiccup's face. Jacks cryptic remark did not need deciphering. More important, it told the Viking the direness of the situation. He slowly shook his head.

"It took us three days of hard flying to get here, Isemaler. We can't get back in time to do anything," Hiccup all but whispered the words.

The elemental closed his eyes and tilted his head. He never considered the distance involved. What proved to be a long trek for his friends he covered in scant fraction. Now Jack stood guilty of bringing dire news to these people and could not offer remedy. If only, he thought, Toothless could fly as he could.

Jack's head snapped up. He reached over and took hold of either side of the dragon's face. After pulling it down level to his, Jack stared straight into the amazing orbs and said: "I need you to trust me. Toothless, can you trust me?"

The dragon's eyes shifted toward his rider.

"I trust him, bud. I'd trust him with my life," Hiccup plainly said.

The young Viking man's words caused Jack's emotions to surge. Such faith he knew to be rare among people. He could not imagine how he earned it, but he fully intended to make prompt payment on the debt. The dragon looked back at him. Toothless closed his eyes, dipped his head, and touched his forehead to Jack's.

"He's willing," Hiccup stated.

"Thank you," Jack whispered to the dragon and gently patted the cheek of the large head. Then he looked up to his Viking friend after releasing the ebony face and said: "Get ready to fly. We're going to Berk."

"What about us?" Valka asked with her concern and worry naked on her face.

"How are you getting back to Berk?" Fishlegs muttered.

Hiccup darted off to where he stored his gear.

"If I can do this at all, I can only do it with one dragon," the immortal told her. "I think this is Hiccup's duty. I think Berk needs him more than anyone right now."

Valka nodded in understanding.

"Would someone mind telling me who he is and why he's not lying in little pieces on the ground? I saw what Cloudjumper did," Gobber demanded now that he rolled away from the ice patch and managed to stand.

"You may tell them, Lady Valka. I trust you to protect me. You must make them understand they cannot talk about me to anyone," Jack pleaded with his friend's mother.

"I know what to do, Isemaler, and they will understand," she confirmed. Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. In his ear Valka quietly said: "Protect my son, Jack, as I protect your name."

He blinked in surprise that she used his real name, but he solemnly rejoined: "I will. I swear it,"

They separated as Hiccup came running up, donning the last piece of his winter flying gear. Gobber and Fishlegs stood mutely watching the proceedings, but always kept one eye on the elemental young man. Gobber appeared to intuit something very important took place. Fishlegs looked concerned. Once Hiccup finished preparing himself and saddling Toothless, Jack walked over to the dragon.

"We need to work together, but you fly him," Jack informed his friend.

"Right," Hiccup agreed and mounted the beast, then strapped himself to the saddle.

Jack stood silently for several long moments. What he contemplated doing he never did before, nor did ever hear of any the Guardians making such an attempt. Jack held his the crook in front of him, clasped in both hands. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He began to will as much power into him as he could find and hoped Thursar H'rim would not become angry. Energy began to build in the immediate area around him. It came first in a slow trickle, yet gained momentum as the forced followed the easiest path. Jack's skin began to prickle.

"My word!" Valka gasped.

Three mortals not sitting a-dragon back stepped away. The air around Jack turned cool, then frigid, and then unimaginably cold as he drank in the winter power. His body tingled in a dangerous manner. A small slice of his mind warned that madness lay ahead if he gave into the energies coursing through his system. Jack began to fear he might get trapped in the flow and it would tear him apart. Gradually, he sensed he came near to bursting. He opened his eyes.

As one, Valka, Gobber, and Fishlegs stepped back several more paces. They appeared frightened by what they saw, but Jack could not let that enter his mind or plan. He turned toward Hiccup and Toothless. Both man and beast eyed him warily. The Guardian walked slowly to the dragon, and Toothless leaned away. The immortal climbed onto the jet back behind the man dressed in the cleverly contrived leather flying armor. Jack placed on hand on Toothless and the other around Hiccup's waist.

"Fly, Toothless," he said, and his voice rang like cold steel pounded on a frozen anvil by an icy hammer.

Toothless hurtled himself into the air. As he did, Jack released the power contained in his form. He thought of only of one goal: immaterialness. Hiccup let out with a strange gargling noise and the dragon trumpeted. Jack channeled more energy out through his limbs and felt the transformation take place as he never before. The world around him appeared to blur. He became weightless.

"Fly!" He yelled.

"Ahhhh!" Hiccup yelled when Toothless began to propel forward at an incredible clip.

The three emerged from the canyon as if hurled by an explosion.

"Faster!" Jack commanded the creature.

Toothless' wings repeatedly beat, and each down stroke felt more assured than the last. Jack guessed that Hiccup acted instinctively when he lowered himself into a crouched position. The immortal remained sitting upright since did not feel the wind. Moment by moment the trio of man, dragon, and elemental flew at an ever increasing speed. Jack glanced around. Toothless took on the transparent look of an immaterial being, as did Hiccup, yet both remained solid to Jack. Were it not for the desperate nature of their mission, he would enjoy the experience. Instead, the elemental Guardian focused his will and channeled vast amounts of winter power. He became the conduit by which Toothless reached a speed hitherto unknown to any dragon. Without mass, none realized they crossed the speed of sound and came close to doubling it. No sonic boom announced the achievement. The curve of the world below darted toward and away from them in a dreamlike manner.

Hiccup knew it would take him months to begin to formulate a way to explain what he experienced and what he felt. His mind almost shut down trying to calculate their speed and how they reached it. Amazingly, Toothless did not appear bothered at all by what happened. The Viking decided to save his sanity and focus on the job at hand. Berk needed him and, despite his pledge not to return, the ex-chieftain responded to the need. The recent past did not change the fact they remained Hiccup's people.

"There!" Hiccup hollered and pointed to the island of Berk barely an hour after departing.

Jack began to choke off the supply of magic. They slowed despite the fact Toothless' wings continued to stroke through the air. The island still continued to come at them at a frightening pace. Jack cut off all but a trickle of the energy. As the details of Berk became sharp, revealing the destruction caused by the fighting, their pace achieved that of a night fury under natural full wing. The flow of power ceased altogether and Hiccup and Toothless snapped back into solid form, Jack assumed invisibility. The group dipped dangerously as the dragon tried to adjust to the sudden reemergence of weight, the effects of gravity, and the pressure of air. Below they could hear people yelling and pointing at the sky. Hiccup aimed for the longhouse half-burned to the ground. A crowd gathered there.

The dragon landed, solidly. Hiccup unhooked himself and slipped from the Toothless' back while shouts were aimed at him. The sight before the young Viking man sickened him. Aside from the obvious damage done to the great hall, Sledgehead's lifeless skull stared ahead from where it sat stuck on a stick. Hiccup stared at it with a growing sickness in his gut. He could not get his feet to mount the steps up to the porch. The violence of the scene only started his queasiness. The realization his people could do this to one of their own made him want to wretch. All manner of dark emotions erupted in him.

"What did you do?" Hiccup asked in horror.

No one answered.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" He screamed at the throng.

A number of people seemed to find it safer to move a foot further away. He continued his approach to grotesque scene. He could not believe, almost refused to believe, this came at the hands of his fellow Berkians. His stomach twisted anew when he saw the battered, hacked, headless body lying off to one side. Only some of the clothing gave away the previous life it lead. Blood spattered everything and made the flagstones both slippery and sticky. The smell of the carnage infested Hiccup's nose and he gave serious thought to vomiting.

"Oh, gods," he sighed and tears streamed down his face. He reached up and touched the cold flesh of the one just a scant four days before got him to step down as chieftain. Regardless of the animosity, Sledgehead did not deserve this fate, Hiccup thought.

"What is wrong with you people?" The former chief angrily yelled and scrutinized the crowd, many of whom would not return the gaze. "Is this always the answer to your problems? Kill whatever it is you don't like? Would you have killed me if I stayed?"

His voice rang across the front of the longhouse.

"Hiccup!" A voice shouted his name, but sounded muted. "Hiccup!"

The young man followed the voice into the remains of the longhouse. He saw many people tied up and huddled in the still smoldering ruins. Among them sat those who, while still angry with them, he counted as friends. Hiccup ran to them, pulled out his knife, and sliced through their bindings. He ran around freeing the others. Grim, silent people stood up and looked at him. Nearly each person bore serious wounds, although Tuffnut's looked the most grievous. Gore spattered their clothing. Their expressions, haunted. Hiccup could see a serious battle took place, and he guessed it as the last stand and the final minutes of Sledgehead's chiefdom. The ex-chief did not think he could be any more repulsed, and focused instead on the survivors.

"Get Tuffnut somewhere and take care of him if he isn't already dead!" Astrid ordered Eret and Snotlout in a mechanical fashion. "Find Gothi… if she's still alive, she can help him."

The two brawny men carried the pale, still form of their blond, thin friend. Hiccup saw the hole in Tuffnut's tunic surrounded by a horrid amount of clotted blood. Ruffnut followed behind not saying a word and gazing at her twin brother with a terrified visage. Finally, Astrid turned to face Hiccup. Her eyes, once a clear blue, looked clouded. Her body shook. Hiccup walked to her, placed his arms around his friend. It took a few moments, but she returned the embrace. Then she choked. Then she started to cry. The Astrid began to wail in anguish.

"Why?" She cried in a strangled voice. "Why? Why? Why?"

Astrid repeated the word non-stop while Hiccup held her. Never in all their years did he ever see her break down like that. It tore at his heart. Her condition added more misery to the scene. He picked her up, and she felt weightless. He carried her to the out of doors, away from the charred timber, but close to where Sledgehead's dead eyes surveyed Berk. She saw it and screamed in Hiccup's ear. It made his head ring, and he clutched her even closer. Long ago when such devastation got visited on Berk, it came in the form of relentlessly driven dragons fearing for their own lives or a marauding band of other Vikings. Now, the blame lay squarely at the feet of the people of Berk. Something shut down in Hiccup while he carried her away from the death and destruction.

"I'll protect you," he whispered to her. "Me and Toothless will keep you safe."

In the background Toothless growled as he followed along. Hiccup aimed for his old house. He saw it, too, suffered. However, it remained standing and did not appear entirely burned. Around him people gathered and watched him pass. He heard the sound of people mumbling, and it made no sense. Hiccup's ears still hurt from Astrid's scream. Up the path he took her. Blood and debris dotted the snow along the way. No simple fracas took place here, he thought: only a small scale war could produce the destruction.

When at last he made it to the house, and kicked open the battered door, Hiccup saw the mess. It did not matter. He picked his way through the broken furniture to his mother's room. The bed sat on the floor, the frame broken, but the mattress and blankets could still serve. Despite her bloody and ragged condition, he lay Astrid down. Her body shook and she clawed furiously to stay in his arms.

"You in my house. Safe. Toothless and me will watch over you. No one will get you," he promised and promised his friend.

When Astrid did let go, she quickly hid under the blankets as through it might offer more protection. Hiccup sat at her side, rubbing her back, while the young woman continued to sob. She never spoke. Long minutes passed while misery wracked her form. Gradually, it began to subside, but tremors rippled through her slender body as if timed. Hiccup felt his heart breaking. In the back of his mind, he could not begin to imagine what might have happened without the aid of his magical friend. This led to thoughts of where Jack may be and what he did. Hiccup believed he owed a debt to Jack that would take the rest of his life to pay.

Astrid either fell asleep or hid, and Hiccup could not tell. He listened to her breathing. It came in slow, even breathes. It seemed she slept, and it eased him some despite the fact he kept himself in an oddly neutral and vacant state. Hiccup did not leave her side. Sometime later, and he guessed a half an hour at the least, Toothless' hatch rattled. Movement occurred above him, and many grumbles issued from the dissatisfied dragon. He could only imagine what carnage waited in his loft bedroom. After a few minutes, Toothless' head came around the corner and peered into the room.

"Come her, bud," he beckoned his best friend.

Toothless squeezed into the room and crawled over to his friend. Even the dragon seemed troubled by the events that took place in their absence. Hiccup hugged the blocky head and scratched it in Toothless' favorite spots. The human felt tension ease from the dragon.

"Stay with Astrid, okay?" Hiccup asked. "She needs someone to look after her right now."

Toothless produce a quizzical expression.

"I need to look around the house and think."

The dragon licked the young man's face.

"Thanks, pal. I owe you one," Hiccup told the beast.

When he moved out the way, Toothless laid his head on the bed next to Astrid so it touched her shoulders. The dragon even managed to find a mostly comfortable position. With that, Hiccup went to investigate the rest of the house. One of the first orders of business centered on finding a functional lamp. He did in the galley, and then started the inspection.

The destruction while not complete proved extensive. Not a single piece of undamaged furniture could be found. His bedroom took the worst of it considering someone set fire to Toothless' nest. He sat on the edge of wrecked bed looking over ruin when movement caught his eyes.

"Jack?" He quietly said the name.

"It's me," Jack replied and became fully visible. He floated over the rubble toward the dragon rider.

"How bad is it?" Hiccup inquired, although he did not sound eager to find out.

"Bad."

Hiccup stared at the elemental immortal.

"At least twenty-three are dead," Jack reported, and then he shuddered.

"Jack?"

"Several are children."

It felt to Hiccup like Gobber punched him the stomach. He lost his breath. Jack appeared to be in the same shape. It seemed odd a mystical being could look wan. However, given his relationship of the immortal to children, it did not surprise Hiccup in the least.

"Did you find out about Tuffnut?" Hiccup begged the question.

"He still lives, but… I'm not sure he's going to make it, Hiccup. He lost a lot of blood," the Guardian told him.

His friend nodded and stared at the spot where the drafting table once stood. Now only splinters clogged the corner. Jack could almost feel the wound the condition of Berk and her people inflicted on the young Viking man. It seemed Halla could not right itself, and Hiccup got tossed in wild tempest. The elemental watched as the human stared vacantly ahead. Jack could not imagine what terrible images flashed before the green eyes.

"Are you solid?" The Viking asked after some time in a strangely hollow tone.

Jack lowered to the floor and converted, then replied: "I am now."

Hiccup stood, walked over to the Guardian, and lowered his head to the slightly chill shoulder. Jack released his staff and it silently drifted to the floor. Second by second Hiccup let the awfulness of the situation escape from him until he cried. Jack wrapped his arms around his friend, recalling the comfort the young mortal man gave him during his time of extreme duress. Hiccup sagged. The Guardian held him in a strong grasp. Hiccup wept that the people he loved could become so savage with so little provocation. The more he tried to piece together the causes, the more distraught he became. His body shook violently as the dismay sought release. Jack did not let go.

A distant memory came to Jack, and he quietly sang: "Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot, prête-moi ta plume…."

When he could not remember the rest of the words, he simply hummed the tune. Thus, an immortal being stood humming a song he did not know he knew to a young Viking on another world whose life crashed around him. Sorrow of an almost pure form poured from Hiccup. Minutes flew by while Jack continued to hum and held tightly to his friend. Tears leaked from immortal as he considered the death lying around them outside the house, and especially that of the children. It seemed like an hour that they stood finding solace where it seemed none should be. Jack never ceased humming the tune, occasionally whispering words when he recalled them.

"That's pretty," Hiccup said in a very hoarse voice. "What song is it?"

"I don't know," Jack honestly replied, and his voice, too, sounded scratchy. "I don't even understand the words. I don't know why I know it."

"It helped. Thanks."

Jack released his friend. They stood looking at one another, each with tear-stained cheeks. Hiccup raised a hand and wiped away moisture from the side of Jack's face. So many question as to why this elemental being should offer him aid and comfort of all the people in the world left Hiccup speechless, but very, very grateful. He felt he barely knew Jack, and yet he found his sense of friendship with the otherworldly young – although Hiccup knew Jack to be very old – man growing beyond his ability to describe it.

"I don't know what I would have done without you, Jack. I can't think of a way to thank you," the dragon rider felt compelled to say.

"You did this for me, Hiccup. I couldn't do any less," Jack responded in a thick voice. "And this isn't over yet… and I'm not going anywhere 'til we find out what happened. I will be your eyes and ears."

The Viking nodded and said: "Then go find out what you can. I'll start looking around see how bad it is for myself."

"It's ugly, Hiccup," the immortal warned. "Very ugly."

Hiccup could not speak and grimaced instead.

"I'll come find you when I know something."

With that, Jack turned both incorporeal and invisible. To Hiccup, the white-haired young man just disappeared into thin air. For half a second he felt something wondrous before the reality of his world came back to him in force.

Jack flew high overhead and carefully looked over all of Berk. Only a single fire continued to burn, but it appeared to be weakening. A good third of the longhouse, the main meeting hall of the Berkians, no longer stood. It looked like a weird and badly scorched slug lying on the ground. The main square suffered damage, and the multitude of dark spots on the ground indicated where blood spilled. As he surveyed, Jack realized not a single dragon could be seen anywhere. A feeling for foreboding came over him. He took to flight and aimed for the dragon cavern.

It seemed wholly eerie that a cave filled with so many dragons could be that silent. Not a one made a sound, but many pairs of eyes followed his movements. The Spirit of Fun, although Jack did not think in those terms at the moment, zipped around the cavern. To his great relief he found a number of adults possessed the presence of mind to round up the children and herd them into the cave. With so many dragons there, no one would dare attack the cavern or the children. A huge wave of relief surged through Jack. He departed to survey the surrounding area.

When he searched around the dragon hold, the elemental received a nasty shock. Three dragons lay slaughtered on the ground near the main topside entrance: a woolly howl, a monstrous nightmare, and a deadly nadder. To his horror, Jack recognized the deadly nadder and the monstrous nightmare. The dead dragons once belonged to Astrid and Snotlout. Fear over telling Hiccup this news seized him. The young Viking man lived for dragons, and the death of two he knew so intimately would be a terrible blow. Jack stowed the sad information and continued his task.

The scenes he discovered only added to his sorrow. He found people emerging from their hiding spots. Some gathered near corpses and vented their grief. Families gathered at the burned out remains of their homes. People seemed confused and lost and, to make matters worse, afraid of one another. Night would come soon and the already low temperatures would become lethal when the weak sun set. A new urgency filled Jack. The homeless needed immediate assistance. Jack went in search of the former chieftain.

Hiccup stood in the town square and felt nothing because he already felt too much. Blood seeped through the flagstones or froze into dark patches. He saw one body, an older Viking once named Goutfoot, lying next to a storage barn. His innards lay next to him. The man's face, eyes open, wore a pained and stunned expression. The visage got etched into Hiccup's memory. Everywhere he went he saw signs of Berkians gone mad. One emotion managed to slip through to the surface: rage. By the time he left the square and the attendant damage, Hiccup involuntarily flexed his hands into fists as he walked. Halfway up the by-pass to the longhouse, he felt something poking him in the shoulder. He turned and saw no one.

"It's me, Hiccup: Jack," a very quiet voice said.

"What did you find out?" Hiccup queried in a flat tone.

"Most of the children are in the dragon cave… with the dragons."

Hiccup looked visibly relieved.

"Please don't go up there 'til morning. They'll be fine until then," Jack requested and tried to keep his voice steady.

"What are you hiding?" The Viking bluntly asked.

Jack got another reminder that the young man kept a wickedly smart brain in his skull, but he felt compelled to tell the truth and said: "Dead dragons."

"How?"

"Hard to say, but it looks like cuts from spears, maybe swords, but not claws."

"How many?"

"Three."

"Which ones?" Hiccup asked in tight, nearly strangulated voice.

"Please don't make me tell you," Jack begged.

"Tell me!"

"The one that can fly through ice storms," Jack began and then found he could not continue.

"Jack!" Hiccup hissed his name.

The elemental tried to steel himself, realized the pointlessness of that, and quietly said the names: "Hookfang and Stormfly."

Hiccup's eyes simply narrowed when he replied: "Okay."

The young man turned and walked away from the invisible voice. Jack followed. Instead of going to the dragon cave, Hiccup veered and went to the longhouse. Some people gathered at the ruins. Hiccup mounted the steps, reached the porch, and stopped. He stood staring at the severed head of Sledgehead.

"People are dead because of you!" He yelled at the frozen face. "Dragons are dead! Was it worth it? Was it?"

Hiccup's cries carried across the valley of Berk. He spun and looked at those standing around the base of the longhouse. Seething fury coursed through him.

"Did any of you join in the fighting?" He hollered at the people. "Huh? Are you going to blame each other for starting it? Why? Why in the names of gods did you do this? WHY?"

Cabbagebreath, a stout woman who now wore a savage gash on her cheek, stood. Her heavy clothing, made from wool and fur, looked disheveled and stained. One sleeve on her jacket barely stayed attached. Her boots appeared caked with mud and a substance too ebony and slick to be mud. The red-brown of Cabbagebreath's hair stuck from odd places from under her askance toque. She looked at Hiccup. She looked at the villagers around her.

"He wasn't a chieftain, Hiccup," she said in her squeaky tenor. "He thought 'cause you left it put him in charge. Most of us wanted Gothi to pick the new chief. Sledgehead…"

And then she spat toward the head.

"He said he was already the chief and we didn't need Gothi to choose anyone. That's when the arguing started. That's when people started picking sides," Cabbagebreath told him. "Do you know what that bastard did?"

Hiccup did not although his brain gave him a few unsavory suggestions.

"He had Gothi locked up just after you and the others left! He threatened to throw her in the sea if we didn't agree to his being chief! He threatened Gothi of all people!" Her timbre grew increasing shrill with each passing sentence.

"When did the fighting start?" Hiccup dully asked, and he no longer could decide if he really wanted to know.

"Two days ago when he wouldn't tell us where he put her. That's when Stonejaw and Broder got a group together to confront him 'cept Sledgehead had his own gang. Don't know who pulled the first axe, but it got going real quick," Cabbagebreath said and she got quieter. "Broder got killed right away, and then… after that…."

"Madness," the former chief finished for her.

"It just spread, Hiccup, like a fire does when tallow gets spilled. It just started going and no one knew how to stop it," she said and then gave him a stern look. "Maybe if you and Valka and Gobber stayed around it might not've gone like it did. Why'd you leave us, Hiccup?"

"Because you didn't want me around anymore," he bitterly spat at her. "You forgot we need each other, and you… just didn't want me."

"If being chief is that important to you, then…"

"No, Cabbage, it isn't! What is important to me is feeling appreciated, like I matter… that I have some value other than for everyone to come up to me complaining all the time!"

"You feckless turd!" Cabbagebreath yelled right back at him. "How much more valuable do you have to be when you've already got everyone coming to you to keep 'em straight and moving along? Maybe we didn't say it every day or throw gold at your feet, but we came to you, Hiccup, and no one else. You, the chief, and then you left. What the hell did you think would happen?"

Jack watched as Hiccup's back stiffened. Like his friend, the elemental man felt his eyes opening. People tended to speak with actions and not words. Most of the time, folks did not know how to express their gratitude or respect to one who seemed to so easily do a job. Children rarely thanked Jack for showing them a good time, but they never hesitated to express love in a myriad of ways. More often than not, laughter in the cold air tended to be payment enough to Jack. However, Hiccup faced a complicated situation when he sat as chief. The complaints and wants of his villagers could feel impersonal, and the expectation he would find a solution seemed a given. He understood why the young Viking man felt under-appreciated.

Hiccup appeared unable to answer. Instead, he walked into the longhouse. Jack followed. Wordlessly the former Viking chief started collecting debris from the floor and tossed it into the fire pit. He loaded the broken chairs and smashed tables atop one another. Several of the villagers crept inside and just watched him work. When it got the point Hiccup need to throw the refuse into the air to make it on the pile, he stopped. After pulling out the flame sword hilt, he stuck it into the base of the heap and set the blade aflame. The wood caught fire. Soon it roared to life

"Hiccup?" Jack whisper from behind.

The Viking did not answer. He walked further into the hall, righting tables that remained whole and arranging benches under them. He did this alone for several minutes. Slowly, as if in a trance brought on by the bonfire sending flame into the air, others began to lend a hand. More trash got thrown into the pit. The fire became so hot the stones around it started to steam. Hiccup moved in a completely mechanical manner. Jack became worried, yet he could do nothing without giving himself away.

The bonfire acted like a silent claxon in the waning day. The people of Berk started moving toward the fire. The flames attracted them like moths following the moon. Jack never figured out who but someone began to sing a slow, mournful song. Others joined in. Hiccup began to sing while continuing to clean up the longhouse. Jack listened. It told the story of a fallen warrior who could not find his way to Valhalla. He cried out to Odin to lead him to his reward, but the Great Father could not hear him. The warrior wept and cursed he should die in a battle no one cared about. A chorus began with the people singing how they remembered the warrior, and they would sing him to the Hall of Warriors. Their voices, they sang, would lift the fallen hero up to the fabled realm. By the time it reached conclusion, not a single person in the burned shell of the longhouse remained silent. When the song ended, sobs echoed in its wake.

More people entered the meeting hall. While some exchanged vicious looks, most greeted their family and friends. Soon the floor became free of debris, except the blood stains needing to be scrubbed. Fuel enough to last the night got stacked by the pit. The villagers began to sit on the benches and floor around the warm fire. A deeply wounded Berk gathered. Another song got raised. Everyone joined in. Again, the words carried laments about fallen brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, who gave their lives defending the homeland. Jack floated in one corner hugging himself, trying to keep at bay the collective agony of the people. He could not sense the Breathless One, but then again he did not know what brought it forth other than death itself.

"Dost thou despair for these mortals?" A voice asked while thunder rumbled overhead.

Several people in the hall glanced at the sky.

Jack simply nodded his head.

"Thou art not part of their world, Isemaler, and yet thou giveth into grief."

"You forget I was mortal once," Jack replied, and he knew no one could hear him. "I will never forget the pain life can bring."

Thursar H'rim kept silent.

"Haven't you wondered why I'm a Guardian? Why I do my job?"

"It is the geis placed on thee by thy maker," the ancient immortal answered.

"No, Thursar H'rim, it is not. The Man in the Moon never told me what to do… never gave me instructions. He just raised me from the lake and let me be. I had to figure out my own purpose and my reasons for acting. The duty I perform I created for myself. Santa helped me find a name, a focus, for it, but I made the duty for myself," Jack whispered the explanation.

"Thy world troubles me, Jack Frost."

"You've said that before."

"Thou art a strange creature and unlike any that exists here," Lord of Winter stated.

"You've said that before, too," Jack repeated.

The immortal in the sky paused for a long while, but Jack could feel him watching. Below, the people of Berk began the long task of healing. Many cried while others got into small heated arguments. Some asked if they needed to suffer more, and the arguments would briefly desist. He looked down and saw Hiccup sitting on the stone dais of the chieftain's chair, arms crossed over knees, and head resting on his arms as he gazed into the fire. Above him the charred remains of the chair towered with an axe buried so thoroughly in the seatback part of the blade poked through the other side. Anyone who tried to move or touch any part of it got a baleful stare from Hiccup until they moved away.

"Thou knowest thee cannot stay in this realm," Thursar H'rim reminded him. "What are two score years to one who will live an untold number? Is the woe of these people worth they demise?"

Jack thought about that. He got no closer to figuring out how to go home than when he first arrived, and yet it felt as though he learned so much in that short time. Lord of Winter asked a fair question, he believed, and he also believed it worth a fair answer. Thus, he kept silent while watching the people in the great hall. It made his heart ache knowing what they suffered now they did to themselves. Something in Jack's head clicked. Most suffering, he suddenly thought, did not randomly appear. Nearly everyone always knew the cause, and the cause tended to be self-infliction. His thinking assuaged him a bit.

"You know what? Even if I can't find a way home and I die here, at least I'll know what caused it and I won't feel bad about it. I'll help these people here, and anywhere else on this world, as my duty commands me," Jack said to himself as much as to Lord of Winter. "Nothing lives forever, Thursar H'rim. Nothing."

It seemed his answer either satisfied or mystified the great elemental master. Jack felt Thursar H'rim recede back into the clouds. He sat for another minute, thinking.

"He needs me, too," he whispered at the strangely lonely figure of former chief who stared unblinking into the fire.

Jack floated down into the hall. None saw him. No dragons hovered anywhere nearby to give him away. He came to stand behind Hiccup, and placed his hands on his friend's shoulder. Slowly and with much care since this amounted to a new trick for him, he allowed his hand to become solid without becoming visible. He squeezed the tense shoulders he could feel under the leather armor.

"I'll stay and help, Hiccup," Jack whispered to the auburn-haired young man.

In response, Hiccup flexed his arms so his hands crawled up the opposing triceps. When they reached his shoulders, he placed them over Jack's hands. Hiccup then returned the squeeze. After a few seconds, the young Viking man's head lowered so his face rested in the cradle of his arms. His body started to shake as he once more gave into his grief. Jack stood and did not retract his hands. He performed as a Guardian should: he maintained his vigil regardless of the personal cost. Despite his efforts, the elemental being felt his heart breaking for all the sorrow surrounding him. He gripped the reassuring presence of Hiccup's shoulders and began to wonder who supported whom.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	9. Chapter 9

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Nine**

by D. O'Shae

The following days did not bring surcease from the horrors the people inflicted upon themselves. The dead needed to be mourned. Astrid and Snotlout each slipped into a deep, seeming endless depression when they learned of their dragon's deaths. Either by habit or need, the people of Berk turned to Hiccup for leadership. He began directing people on how to repair the physical damage done to the village. The emotional and psychological wounds lay outside his ability to mend. When accusations and arguments broke out over who started the fighting, Hiccup declared an immediate amnesty and moratorium. He declared everyone, including himself, guilty of fomenting the battle. His acceptance of blame seemed to shame those who wanted to point fingers and single out individuals. Hiccup demanded that they learn how to avoid such fights in the future.

Jack thought Hiccup's actions some of the purest examples of leadership he ever witnessed. He believed Santa Claus would be proud of the young Viking. He, a Guardian, gained inspiration through his friend.

On the third night after Hiccup and Jack raced to Berk, Fishlegs, Gobber and Valka returned. They did not receive a joyous welcome, but a somber one of gratitude and relief at their return. Gobber, in his fashion, went straight to his smith. Although it, too, received heavy damage in the fighting, he coaxed Grump into igniting one of the forges that could operate. Seeing smoke rise from the smithy in productivity instead of anger produced a positive effect in the people. It became a beacon of hope. Hiccup, ever the apprentice to the stout, partially limbless Viking, worked side-by-side with his mentor. Valka returned to the dragon cavern. Only half the dragons remained from the stock she left behind. Many fled during the violence, and they never returned. The ones who huddled in the cavern displayed nervous and uncertain behaviors. All of Valka's skills got put to the test. In a surprising turn, Astrid volunteered to work with her. Finally, Fishlegs brought his unique brand of intelligence to bear on the problems around town. He helped rebuild, and showed others how to fortify and strengthen the buildings. His quiet, assured demeanor became a rock other attached their lines too when the stormy winds of winter threatened the nascent peace.

Jack did not shirk in his responsibilities. The children of Berk showed the expected signs of deep trauma. He spent his days crafting images in and from snow. When new flurries arrived, he made the flakes dances in strange, unusual patterns that everyone – child and adult alike – knew did not happen naturally. As Berk patched and painted the eternal damage, Jack did his best to remind the people beauty and wonder still existed in the world. He studiously avoided starting any snowball fights. Against some incredible odds, he succeeded in most of his endeavors. Children learned to laugh and smile again. The darkness of Berk's civil war, and Jack could think of no other term for it, slowly slipped into the background. None believed it would ever truly disappear. For one person in particular over whom Jack worried the most, it seemed to haunt him both in the day and at night.

Hiccup, however, being possessed of the mind at his disposal, used the ordeal to germinate ideas.

"This has to happen now and not later," Hiccup insisted one evening nearly three weeks following the horrific events.

Valka, Gobber, and Fishlegs sat around the new table Hiccup and Fishlegs crafted. They still needed to work on the chairs since only two reached completion. However, with the amount of furniture needing to be remade or repaired, the work tended to go slow. Dragging wood in from other islands took time and dragons, with the later still recovering from the shock of the human battles. Generally the foursome tended to stick together and often took meals together when not in the recently re-opened great hall. The felt bound by all the events, especially when they accepted self-exile with Hiccup. Although none said it out loud, their group included a fifth who never spent more than a single day away from Berk.

"So ye're not worried it'll start again?" Gobber pressed his point for the tenth time.

"It will start again if we don't make changes while everyone knows something needs to be done. It's now or never," the acting Viking chief told the assembled.

"I agree," Fishlegs added his support, and drank down half a flagon of mead in one go. "We can't waste this opportunity."

"I've been thinking the same for a while," Valka chimed in and wrapped the heavy robe more tightly about her. Drafts still existed in the house that Hiccup, Fishlegs, or Jack could not locate. The hunt continued since they could not figure out exactly what damage the fire caused.

"Okay, but I just wanted to make sure," Gobber said and settled back on his sturdy stool. "What about ghost boy? Does he agree?"

"I'm not a ghost, Gobber," Jack corrected him for the umpteenth time. He sat perched on the top of his crook that stood upright. His seating continually drew stares from the others.

"Well, ye did die and come back, so sort of sounds ghost-y to me."

"He's not a ghost," Hiccup added his opinion, although he found it hard to argue against the point given how the Guardian currently sat. "And what do you think, Isemaler."

"Where I'm from, there're lots of nations that use a representative government to rule themselves. It seems to work alright for most of them as long as they've got good checks and balances," Jack explained what little he knew of Earth political systems. "A group of people elect one person to speak for them, and a group of these elected people make the decisions for everyone… usually by majority vote."

"We need that," Hiccup instantly championed the idea and adjusted the new garment he wore that strongly resembled Jack's hooded sweatshirt. "It'll make us all responsible for how things get done."

"But how do we run it?" Fishlegs asked one of his favorite questions and shifted in his seat, creating a subtle tinkling sound. He crafted a new vest that held a large but eccentric assortment of measuring and writing implements. The hefty Viking jingled when he walked.

The quintet debated the issue as the night wore on. Jack shared his limited knowledge, and it served as the springboard for new ideas. When the dust settled, they decided that fifteen people could be nominated by anyone in the age of majority to sit on a council, and seven would be elected from that group. Then out of those seven, one would be selected as a chairman or woman to oversee the functioning of the council. The council, as they saw it, would meet in the great hall with the doors open and any who wanted to sit in on their meetings could. All decisions would be presented to the people to make certain everyone understood what would happen or, if too much public opposition existed, go back and fine tune ideas before enacting them.

"Well, who's gonna want to sit on the council? Sounds ruddy boring, it does, and don't forget people have lives to live," Gobber complained, but he raised a good point.

"Don't make it a full-time job. The council should meet only when necessary… maybe once or twice a month, and only allow people to serve for a year or two, and then hold new elections. Say anyone who sat on the council before can't sit again," Fishlegs offered. "When everyone's served, start over."

"I've heard of governments like that," Jack commented with an approving nod.

Everyone fell silent as they contemplated the idea. After five minutes of silence, they all looked at Gobber. He stared back at them.

"What?" He finally blurted when nobody spoke.

"Just seeing if you found any problems with it yet," Valka teased her friend.

"No, that actually sounds doable to me."

Hiccup and Fishlegs exchanged glances and grins.

"Who's going to tell the people about this?" Gobber inquired while staring into the depths of his empty tankard.

"Hiccup," Three voices said in unison.

"Why me?" The acting chieftain grumbled. He picked at the coarse wool clothing he favored when not in riding gear. Of late he preferred dark blues and grays.

"Because you're the only person everyone trusts," Fishlegs explained as he did almost every day.

"You showed them how to have faith in someone again," Jack quietly said.

Hiccup looked over to his semi-transparent friend. Their eyes met, green to blue, and they once again silently communed. The two tended to do that with greater frequency over the past weeks. Gobber and Valka glanced at one another. After few seconds, Jack grinned. A small smile curled the edges of Hiccup's mouth.

"Alright, I'll explain it to everybody at tomorrow night's meal. Spread the word we need everyone there," he agreed and instructed his compatriots. "I'll start writing it down tonight, and Fishlegs can make copies in the morning."

"Hey, I've got to work on the grain house," Fishlegs countered.

"Fine. I'll make the copies and you can explain it at the meeting."

"Get me the draft as soon as you can," the heavy-set, blonde young man immediately amended his ways.

Snickers rippled around the table.

Jack floated down from the top of his staff and gave every appearance of standing before he said: "I'm heading over to the Tykkstein tonight. They had a big earthquake there a couple of days ago and I want to make sure the children aren't still afraid the ground is going to eat them."

"Will you be back by tomorrow night?" Hiccup quickly asked.

"I'll try," the elemental replied.

"Since he's heading out, then I'm going to get some sleep if I have to spend all day copying whatever Hiccup writes," Fishlegs announced and stood as well. "Good food tonight, Gobber. Thanks!"

"Yeah, sure," Gobber accepted the compliment and got to his feet. "I'll go with ye. It's late and Grump probably let the fires go out."

"Tomorrow, friends," Jack said and sailed up and through the roof.

Everyone watched him leave.

"Wish I could learn that trick," the stout smith mumbled.

"Feel like drowning?" Hiccup asked while throwing a smirk at his mentor.

Gobber quivered and said: "Ye'd be surprised to find out how much that isn't on my list of things to do."

Valka escorted Fishlegs and Gobber to the door while Hiccup cleaned up the last dishes from their meal. He heard his mother and Gobber quietly talking for a few minutes. Although it took shape for over year, Hiccup felt glad the two renewed a close friendship. He knew it would never go further, but they complimented one another in the same way his father got complimented by the smith. As he straightened the last of the galley, his mother came in behind him, slipped her arms around his chest, and gave him a big hug.

"And I deserved that because…?" He asked, relishing the motherly affection.

"Because you put the people of Berk before most of your own needs, Hiccup. You helped them when the needed it most and deserved it least," she said, pride rippling in her words, while letting him go and stepping back. "And now you're setting to do it again by showing them how to lead themselves. You know this won't be easy?"

"Is anything ever easy around here?" Hiccup sarcastically rejoined while returning to the table and sitting down in one of the new chairs and mumbled: "Still wobbles."

"No, but you never seem afraid of that."

Hiccup shrugged.

"Speaking of needs, can I ask you something… maybe a little on the personal and private side?" Valka inquired in a bland voice.

"Sure, I guess," her son tentatively agreed.

"Does he know?"

"Who and what?"

"Jack and that you're in love with him?"

Hiccup's mouth flopped open in astonishment.

"Stop looking like a newly clipped piglet. We all know… except Jack… I think," she rounded on him.

"Mother, first, how would that even work? Jack's a Guardian… from another world… and he's not exactly completely human, you know. Does he even feel emotions like we do?" Hiccup delved into minutia.

Valka shook her head and replied: "He must because I'm fairly certain he's in love with you. And who cares what he is? All I know is you're happier when he's around, and he floats around you like he's circling a drain hole."

"Jack? Me? Love?"

"Sure, and why not? You deserved to be loved as much as anyone else. Besides, I've seen the way you two work together, and it's amazing to watch, Hiccup," his mother said with a small smile. "It reminds me of when your father realized how different we were from each other and how much it didn't matter. I loved him from almost the first day I met him."

"Mom, you and Dad is one thing. You're both Vikings, but Jack and me…" Hiccup started to protest.

"No, son, it's not all the different, and this is one time you have to put your needs first! Just admit you love him and tell Jack!"

Hiccup lowered his head and stared at the new tabletop. A stray thought it could use another sanding and coat of oil crossed his mind. However, that did not disguise what he truly thought.

"Hiccup?" Valka prodded her son.

"It'll never work, Mom. It doesn't matter how much I love Jack, it won't… can't happen," he said in small voice.

"Why?"

"Because he can't stay. He'll die if he stays here, and you've heard him say it. Whatever power… magic exists on our world, it can't keep him alive. The longer he's here and not home, the weaker he becomes," he stated the facts as he knew it. "I can't ask him to die for me."

"He looks fine," Valka countered.

"Jack's only been here four months or something like that, so it won't show yet, and are you forgetting that when summer comes he has to go wherever winter is? Huh? Mother, he really will die if he gets cut off from that!"

"Hiccup," she said his name with tremendous compassion.

Hiccup raised his head, and tears danced on the rims of his eyes. He gazed at his mother, amazed she would talk to him about this, but now it revealed something he dreaded to acknowledge. His emotions for Jack grew stronger day by day, by the hour at times. It caused the Viking anxiety when the elemental needed to be away from Berk. Hiccup could not imagine how much worse it would be if he actually confessed his feelings to Jack. Moreover, it terrified him to think of what the Guardian would do about and with that knowledge. He feared Jack would forgo his own personal safety.

"I can't tell him. Mom, and you know I can't. You know what he's like. Jack'll do something stupid… like decide he doesn't need to go home if he thinks it'll compromise his sense of duty here. I can't do that to him. It'd kill me," he told her, and his tone begged for her understanding.

Valka reached across the table and took hold of her son's hands. She held his gaze, and he could not think for what she searched. He dared not tell her that for the last week he wrestled with the very questions she raised. Every time he saw Jack, all Hiccup simply wanted to hold, hug, and kiss the elemental being. For over two weeks his dreams burned with startling ferocity, sometimes he relived the terrible images of the aftermath of the battle, but lately it centered on Jack and what he would like to do. Sometimes Hiccup woke shaking and sweating from the intensity of the dreams. He gave up resisting what it all meant and secretly admitted to himself how desperately in love he became. Hiccup wondered if his mother could see that in his eyes.

"Son, there has to be a way. It wouldn't be fair if there isn't," she said, breaking the silence.

"When has life ever been fair to any of us?" Hiccup countered.

The answer did not need stating.

The next morning Hiccup spent time at his new drafting table finishing and revising the idea the five of them concocted the night before. He wished Jack stayed because he knew the language Hiccup needed to write. For three hours Hiccup struggled to put to parchment the novel new form of self-governance he would propose to the Berkians. When he could think nothing else to include, he took his efforts to Fishlegs. His friend, as promised, busied himself at the grain house making repairs and improving the facility to some degree.

The nature of a granary meant the temperature tended to be warm. They never lit fires and carefully shielded all lamps. Three years previously the building mysteriously exploded, and it took the best minds in Berk weeks to figure out the cause. One needed to be able to smell the air to make certain water did not get in and started to ferment the grain. A pack of terrible terrors roosted in there to keep rats and other vermin out. Hiccup and Fishlegs worked on devising a new trap and pulley system to both load and unload the granary. They also planned on adding more vents to siphon off dust and gases. Even though no stoves burned in the building, Fishlegs wore his short-sleeved shirt and sweat stains ringed his neck and armpits. However, the current important issue centered on forming a new type of government.

"Here it is," Hiccup said and handed it to the rotund young man while opening up his jacket.

Fishlegs took it, read it over, stared at Hiccup for a moment, and said: "Needs work."

"Which is why I wanted you to make the copies in the first place. You'll make it better," Hiccup stated and pondered how much of Fishlegs protestations the night before intended to elicit compliments. "You write better than any of us, and you know it."

"I do," his friend immodestly replied, but it did not sound entirely egotistical. "Did, ah… you know who read this over?"

"He's not back yet, remember? He might not even make it back by tonight."

Fishlegs looked around, and then grabbed Hiccup by an arm. He dragged him to a more secluded part of the granary. Hiccup patiently waited.

"What are you going to do if everyone finds out about him?" Fishlegs asked and not for the first time. Something about Jack seemed to unnerve the rotund Viking.

"They can't," Hiccup answered in a low and somewhat threatening tone. "That's why you have to help keep him secret."

"People talk about him, Hiccup. They think Isemaler is real."

"He is real. Besides, who gets hurt by what he does? You've seen the effect is has on the children. Look at your little sister. Isn't she better for having him around?"

Fishlegs nodded.

"He's our friend, Fishlegs, and you know it," the acting chief said hoping to calm Fishlegs' nervousness about Jack. "Look at what he did to help me get back to Berk when the fighting broke out. He didn't say it, but I know it physically took it out of him for a while."

"Physically? How?" Fishlegs burped out the words in disbelief.

"I don't know, but I could tell. He was kind of sluggish for a few days and sort of laid around the house unable to go through walls."

The two friends eyed one another for a moment. Fishlegs and Gobber took turns cornering Hiccup to ask questions about Jack. Unlike Valka, they did not entirely trust the Guardian for reasons neither could explain. Were it not for the reaction of Valka and the dragons to Jack, Hiccup felt certain they would ask him to drive the elemental being away from Berk. The thought chilled the young Viking man to the core, and not in a good way.

"And here's another thing: have you seen the way he looks at you? He got a weird fixation about you, Hiccup," his friend said in as close to an accusatory tone as one could get without becoming insulting.

"Sure, why not? I became his first friend here. He proved himself to Toothless. He sort of uses me as guide to know who he can trust and who he needs to watch out for," Hiccup stated as a preamble to his coup de grâce. "Are you telling me now I made a mistake letting you in on this? Does he have to worry about you?"

"Me? What? No!" Fishlegs barked, offended. "I wouldn't turn on him. Besides, I don't know what he'd do to me if I did."

"When has he ever threatened anyone, Fishlegs?" Hiccup hotly queried, offended for Jack.

The stout young Viking's face took on a guilty expression, and he looked everywhere except at Hiccup. Hiccup did not deny part of his vociferous defense of Jack stemmed from his emotions for the Guardian, but he also thought Fishlegs' fears as baseless given everything Jack did for Berk. Hiccup tied to cool his temper and relax. More than anything, he needed to find out his friend's hesitancy regarding the elemental.

"Honestly, Fishlegs, why do you have such a problem with him?" He asked in a calmer voice.

"I… guess… it's 'cause I don't understand what he is… and what he can do," his friend said and then looked him in the eye. "I think maybe I have a hard time trusting anyone after what happened. I can't tell if someone is going to turn on me and try to chop my head off."

The news of what happened to Sledgehead, Hookfang, and Stormfly deeply unsettled Fishlegs when he returned with the others. Although he did not show it at the time since everyone displayed some level of trauma, he continually referred to those three particular deaths on a regular basis. Although he never liked Sledgehead, Fishlegs publicly stated his belief the execution undeserving and without any justification. However, that Berkains would slaughter dragons they knew for years did the most damage to Fishlegs' psyche. Like Hiccup, the beefy Viking possessed a limitless love for dragons. Anything done to them might as well be done to him.

"Isemaler's role in life is one of protector, Guardian, for children and really anything else… but mostly children. He's the Spirit of Fun, and I'm asking you again to look at what he's done for people here. Does he seem like someone who'd take up arms and kill?" Hiccup laid out the argument as best he could.

"He's got that staff," Fishlegs reminded him.

"You're impossible," the thinner of the two said and threw up his hands in defeat. "Just try to get as many copies made after you fixed the wording before the announcement tonight. I've got to go do another tally of the stores in the caves."

"Why? Did something happen?" Fishlegs questioned and appeared relieved to leave the previous topic.

"Not that I know of, but we've gone through a lot more blackrock since… just fixing everything. Gobber brought it up to me a couple of days ago," Hiccup answered, also glad to switch subjects. "And he reminded me winter is far from over."

Fishlegs nodded.

"Stop by house before you go to the great hall tonight so I can read what changes you made. I don't want to look like a complete idiot when I present this."

Fishlegs nodded again, and Hiccup took his leave of the granary. He walked out to find Toothless stretched out on paving stones heated by the sun. Berk experienced a rare series of cloudless days, and he wondered if Jack somehow managed it. When he reached the dragon, he spent a few minutes scratching his best friend until the beast cooed with delight. Then dragon rider affectionately slapped the strong, sturdy neck.

"Come on, bud, we've got stuff to do," he said, and the dragon slowly rose from the ground.

Hiccup spent over an hour flying around Berk and surveying the progress. He also wanted to spend time with Toothless. Since the battle, their chances to slip away for quality togetherness became curtailed. Although Toothless appeared to understand the demands on Hiccup, the human did not want to neglect the dragon.

"Toothless, do you trust Jack?" He asked loud enough to be heard over the wind.

The dragon gave his snort of approval. Since the day they flew from the intended new homestead back to Berk, Toothless tried multiple times to get Jack to sit astride his back. On the two occasions when Jack relented, the beast appeared disappointed when magic did not get used during the flights. The Viking and the Guardian discussed at length the change in behavior, and they decided the dragon rather enjoyed flying at what Jack called super-sonic speeds. Although he said nothing to anyone who knew about Jack, the fact the dragon and the elemental formed a real friendship thrilled Hiccup to no end. Once, he and Jack both camped in Toothless' nest with the dragon, and no one complained even while getting covered with soot. That night proved again Hiccup could no longer deny or hide from himself the truth of what he felt.

"I'm in love with him, bud," Hiccup sadly said. "And I can't tell him or do anything about it. All I can do is help Jack find a way home before he gets stuck here and dies. I couldn't live with that on my conscious."

They banked and flew around the eastern side of the island. The land below sparkled clean and white, dappled with flashes of blue and silver in the morning sun. No one lived on that side of island since the prevailing winds and snow accumulation made it impossible to keep it free of the white powder for habitation. In the deep of his mind, Hiccup recognized no blood got spilled there. To snap himself out of the creeping malaise, he slapped the side of his dragon's neck.

"And stop trying to get him to use magic on you," he advised. "I think that was a one-time deal."

The dragon grumbled and shook his ebony head.

Hiccup busied himself throughout the day and tried not to over-think what they planned on introducing to the population of Berk. No one could imagine what the reaction might be, but the conditions and circumstances warranted the need. The Viking looked for signs of elemental being when the sun touched the horizon. If even for simple moral support, he wanted Jack close by. However, Hiccup could not refute that Jack's duty came first. Thus, he lived with the absence of his friend during the day.

When darkness arrived, Fishlegs brought the final copies to the house. Hiccup and Valka read it over. Gobber said he expected it to be fine and did not need his tinkering. When he finished, Hiccup complimented Fishlegs on vastly improving the language he initially wrote. Furthermore, the brilliant blonde-haired Viking made certain it followed a logical and reasonable order. Hiccup read it through one more time. Then the quartet went to the great hall.

Viking politics always proved loud, and that night added more proof.

"Look, it makes us all part of how we run the island," Hiccup shouted for the tenth time.

"We've never had much of problem with chiefs before… well, before Sledgehead," Spitelout shouted back.

"And that's what we're trying to avoid," Gobber picked up the thread. "What're ye going to do when the day comes when no one wants to be chief? Look at what happened when Hiccup stepped down!"

"Then we don't allow chief's to do that!" A woman's voice neither of them could identify said.

Hiccup stood on a chair, and not the Chief's pedestal. He saw Valka and Fishlegs talking feverishly with two different groups. None of them expected the flat-out rejection of the proposal it received. Now they went into damage control to keep the idea from dying altogether.

"And what if you don't like chief?" Hiccup yelled his question.

A ring of silence met his query. The Berkians around him glanced at one another, some scratching their heads under their helmets, and no one wanted to openly say what it seemed they all thought. Hiccup decided the moment called for the extreme position.

"Cutting off the head of the chief isn't the way to do it," he said, and the area of silence grew. "Were the lives we lost worth it? Stinktoes, what did you get out of Haggard's death?"

More silence filled the great hall.

"How many more people have to die by our hands, not some invader, but our hands before we realize we can't go on like this?" The acting chief all but yelled the question as memories of what happened in that very hall swarmed over him.

No one spoke. He shifted his glance from one face to the next, focusing on those he knew caused the most bloodshed. Vikings tended toward violence when confronted with frightening new situations, but their recent past went beyond the pale. The swish of canvas, fur, and wool as people settled seemed to cap his question.

"I'll tell you this right now: I will not let you cut my head off," he angrily said to his people. "I'll be on Toothless and gone before you can even sharpen a blade to do the job."

"Don't you want to be chief any more, Hiccup?" Tuffnut asked.

"Frankly, no."

A murmur of surprise went through the gathering. In the three weeks following the fighting, Hiccup resumed his role as chieftain, but he never said he would do so permanently. The time called for absolute honesty.

"Listen, I know it's an honor that so many of you have faith in me to solve your problems, but… it's not a lot of fun. Is it fair to ask just one person to take on that much responsibility?" Hiccup continued to press the point.

"But, Hiccup, you're good at it," Cabbagebreath said, and they both knew why she said it.

"That's not the point," he said and felt relieved rather than annoyed at the comment. "Look, every other job that gets done in Berk has at least two people, usually a dozen, who can do it. You even got Gobber to take on two more apprentices…"

"Well what else is Fartbritches and Moldy going to do?"

The Berkians burst out laughing since the inability of either to tend dragons or sheep became legendary. However, under Gobber's stern stewardship and liberal use of his hammer hand as a corrective device, the two seemed to be actually learning. Hiccup considered bringing up his personal distaste of the way they named their young, but he thought the current struggle more important.

"And that's the point… I think," Hiccup said and stared to rethink his strategy. "The point is we shouldn't leave it up to one person… or even two people. I know it hurts for a lot of you to think…"

A new wave of laughter greeted him, and he liked it that way. It meant those gathered in the hall actually listened. Despite that, Hiccup knew to limit the amount of humor or it would take over.

"But ask yourself this," Hiccup demanded and his eyes swept the room until everyone focused on him. "If you love Berk, then we can never, ever let what happened to Sledgehead and the others happen again. This is part of taking care of ourselves. Don't forget we still have threats out there we'll have to face. We need to be unified. If we have a council that speaks for everyone, then everyone has a stake in Berk. It gives us a real reason to defend our island and way of life."

"What if we don't like the council?" A voice quickly posited.

"Or we want a chief again?"

"Or if the council doesn't know what to do or makes a mess of things?"

"What if we want you to be chief?"

"After tonight, I'm done being chief," Hiccup flatly told them. "I'm not going to leave Berk, but I can't do this anymore. This is more than one person can handle."

"Stoick did, and so did most of the others," Spitelout shouted.

"And that's when all we focused on was fighting dragons. Now… we've finally figured out there's so much more to live for than finding the next thing to kill," Hiccup reminded them. "Do you really think it was better back then?"

He nearly fell off the chair when he saw the people of Berk think about his question. Hiccup heard side conversations start, many of which recalled losing family and friends to battles with dragons and other Viking clans. From his perspective, Hiccup could see them grapple with the entire notion of peace and stability. These in the past never came easily to Berk. With the introduction of dragons, it became a less rare commodity. He decided to capitalize on the moment.

"Isn't it nice to know your house will still be standing tomorrow and it's not just some flight of fancy? What about watching someone head out to sea knowing there's a really good chance they'll come back. Don't you like having your sons and daughters… mothers and fathers with you for life? Isn't being alive better than being dead?"

"And you're telling us doing this council thing will give us that?" Plumpy the Thin inquired.

"Nothing is given to us, Plumpy: we work for what we want. We're Vikings, so that means it won't come easy, but at least this way most of us will know what we're working toward," Hiccup answered.

A group murmur of agreement met his words. It gave the young Viking man a glimmer of hope. He knew what the people needed.

"Alright, this is a new idea and we haven't had time to beat it to death like a sock-stealing troll."

"They're real, I'm telling ye all!" Gobber instantly defended one of his favorite subjects while the others threw good natured jeers at him.

"Let's say we bring it up again two weeks," Hiccup suggested. "That'll give you just enough time to figure out the marks on these sheets are actually writing."

Laughter met his comment, but he saw enough heads nodding to know the proposal did not die prematurely. Nothing could guarantee the Vikings would accept it, yet now he and his fellow instigators could engage the Berkians in discussions to sell it. In retrospect, he thought, the notion these people would take to the idea from the start seemed foolish. Hiccup looked out to his mother and Fishlegs. They continued to hold others in conversation. He glanced down at Gobber.

"That went about as well as ye could expect," his mentor said with in an approving tone. "We got enough time now to talk them into it."

"If we're lucky, Gobber."

"Promise 'em you'll sit on the first council, Hiccup, and they might bite."

Hiccup raised his eyebrows as he considered the suggestion. As much as he wanted to step down as chief to pursue his own life, he saw the wisdom in the suggestion. People would be less afraid of a new idea of someone they trusted showed a willingness to use it. He thought back to what Jack said about him the previous evening. This would test their faith, and Hiccup decided to have faith in them as well.

"We're going to do this," he replied to his friend.

"Show 'em the way, lad, and they'll get there," Gobber rejoined.

The two then grinned at one another. Hiccup also found something lacking from his life for the past several months: hope. The notion he could help his people learn to fend for themselves gave him reason enough to commit to the new form of governance, yet it also served as a bright spot in the future. They could recover, they could do it together, and they could ensure such a travesty never again took place on Berk. Thus, Hiccup felt free to join in the feasting and singing. Once more, the chieftain's chair remained unoccupied save for the axe.

Later he managed to slip out one of the new exits from the building. The fire taught them the great hall could be a death trap. No one saw him leave. The atmosphere approached manic, but he realized the people were learning to enjoy one another anew. The noise, deafening, ultimately led to Hiccup's early exit. He trotted through the cold to the house.

"You are a natural leader, you know?" A voice came out of nowhere.

"Gah! Dang it, Jack, don't do that!" Hiccup grunted in a mix of irritation and surprise while his heart beat a fast tattoo.

"So you'd prefer if I materialized on the path?"

"How about waiting 'til I got in the house."

"And miss the chance to tell you how much you succeeded?" Jack replied and sounded playfully hurt.

"You think so?" Hiccup asked, his sense of hope rising.

"It's new. It's different. They've never heard of anything like it before. It scares them, and they don't trust it," the disembodied voice rattled off a list.

"A very Viking response, in other words."

"True, but they are talking about it. Some even sounded curious," Jack told him.

"Gods, I hope," Hiccup wistfully stated. "When did you get here?"

"When you and Fishlegs finished arguing about the spelling of representative."

"Who's right?"

"He is," the immortal stated.

"Traitor," the Viking grumbled through a smirk.

"I am a slave to the truth."

Hiccup chuckled. He finished his trek to the house without any further conversation. Once inside and the door securely closed, Jack materialized. The floorboards under his feet squeaked, giving away the fact he turned solid as well. The immortal went and sat at the table after leaning his staff against a nearby wall and watched his host scurry about stoking the stoves. Once the sun set, keeping anything warm became a chore. Jack, of course, never noticed how cold it got. After also lighting a couple of lamps, Hiccup joined his friend at the table.

"How's Tykkstein?" The Viking queried.

"They had some more quakes, but nothing like the first one. The children aren't the only ones scared. There was talk of abandoning the island for a safer location, but I don't think one exists," the immortal reported while stretching out his arms. It seemed a completely human and subconscious act.

"Do you really think the people of Berk will consider this new form of government?" Hiccup inquired, returning to his topic.

"You know them better than me," Jack replied and tilted his head. "Gobber seemed pretty optimistic. Valka did her best to convince anyone who got near her, but Fishlegs didn't make much headway with anyone. They seem to think he put you up to it to try and become chief himself."

"Fishlegs? Chief? There's a thought that'll keep me awake at night!"

"Why? He's smart and dedicated, and he might make a pretty good one."

"Fishlegs doesn't deal with pressure very well, in case you haven't notice," Hiccup stated the obvious. "I think he's having a hard time keeping you secret."

A concerned looked crossed Jack's face.

"Right now he might be too afraid of you to slip up, but we need to watch what he says."

"Why would he be afraid of me?" Jack quietly asked in a thoughtful manner.

"He doesn't understand what you are, Jack," the Viking told him. "To be honest, I don't fully understand what you are, either, but you've more than proved yourself to me. I guess what you do is more important that what you're made of, Jack. I wasn't kidding when I told Toothless I'd trust you with my life."

"I'm... honored, Hiccup. I've always tried to keep my word to you."

"You've done more than that... way, way more. I guess that's why I need to do whatever I can to help you get back home."

Deep inside Hiccup, conflicting emotions began to war with one another. He meant what he said, but he also wished he did not have to say it. Each day that passed left the Viking wishing the Guardian could stay. However, he could not condemn his friend to a slow and possibly painful death on his world. That thought sobered him.

"Trying to get rid of me so soon?" Jack teased, but a sad note also rang in the words.

Hiccup shook his head, put a fake smile on his mouth, and said: "No, not yet, but... Jack, I can't stand the thought of something bad happening to you, and I know if you stay here... this world can't keep you alive. We've got to find a way to get you home before time runs out."

"I've got at least forty years..."

"But what if you grow too weak in fifteen or ten years?" Hiccup interjected.

"I'm not certain it works like that," Jack countered.

The Viking raised his eyebrows in a questioning fashion.

"Alright, I really don't know how it works, but... that just doesn't feel or seem right."

"Didn't what's his name up in the clouds say you'd fade?"

"Thursar H'rim," the immortal supplied the name and grinned at Hiccup's purposeful forgetting. "I'm not sure he knows, either. He said a couple of times he never knew a being like me, so Thursar might be just guessing."

Jack paused and waited for the distant sound of thunder. He heard none, but he also knew that did not mean the powerful, ancient immortal did not listen: it simply meant Thursar H'rim chose not to comment.

"Did he talk to you?" Hiccup asked.

"No, but he might... wait, how'd you know I was listening for him?"

The Viking's green eyes sparkled when he said: "You get this far off look on your face. It's like you're paying attention to something very quiet."

"That one is anything but quiet," Jack whispered.

Hiccup grinned at his friend. Suddenly they ran out of topics to discuss, at least for Hiccup. They looked at one another while silence grew and became somewhat awkward. Hiccup pursed his lips and twisted his mouth to one side. Jack glanced around, searching through his brain to find a sensible thing to say. He never before experienced a moment like that with Hiccup. Hiccup, for his part, felt the same. A minute ticked by.

"So, um, what are you doing tomorrow?" Hiccup asked. "Going off somewhere?"

"No, I planned to stay here and see if the kids have anything to say about what their parents heard tonight," Jack replied. "You?"

"Just more rebuilding, and I want to get Gothi's take on the government idea."

"Good. Good."

They lapsed back into silence. An unusual pressure built up in Hiccup's mind to say what he thought about on a daily, nearly hourly, basis for over a week. It hurt keeping it inside, but he feared Jack's reaction one way or the other. Despite his mother's belief Jack felt the same way toward him, Hiccup did not want to run the risk of finding out he misread the immortal. Conversely, Jack might make a fatal decision if he did share the same feelings. Thus, Hiccup kept it all bottled inside determined to be brave and act appropriately.

"We, um, haven't had an earthquake here in a while. That last time it happened I was really little. I just remember everything shook and stuff fell off the shelves," Hiccup commented.

"Yep. It was like that in Tykkstein. There was a small quake when I was there," Jack rejoined.

"Any volcanoes nearby?"

"There's one about three hundred miles to the northeast, and it's been smoking for a while. I've heard volcanoes and earthquakes go together."

"Uh-huh. That's why I asked," Hiccup said while folding his hands in front of him on the table.

When a new round of quiet began, Jack felt flustered. He and Hiccup normally conversed easily because so much happened over the months since he arrived. Now some unnamed important topic needed to be addressed, but Jack discovered he could not figure it out or even how to begin the conversation. The young immortal faced a point where he realized his lack of knowledge about mortal life and living put him at a disadvantage. He suspected his relative youth when he transformed also deprived him of vital information. Confusion battered his brain. Jack stared at the tabletop trying to think of anything to say.

"Jack, I...," Hiccup started and paused. "You... see, what I want to know, but... so, ah, I don't know... how did you get here?"

Hiccup finished with what he considered the stupidest thing he could possible bring up. However, try as he might, he feared too much what might happen if he spoke honestly about his feelings. Hence, he failed in his attempt. Jack heard the broken, jumbled question and it sounded to him as if Hiccup wanted to say one thing but settled for another. Fortunately, his friend raised an issue he could speak on without sounding as if he lost command of his mouth.

"Did I tell you about Blue Trolls?" Jack replied with a question.

"Some sort of creature who does something to children," Hiccup said and tried to recall exactly what the Guardian told him.

With a neutral subject now on the table, the two discussed the manner in which Jack arrived in Hiccup's world. They covered it in redundant detail since both wanted to continue talking, yet neither could venture near the subject that almost seemed alive. Hiccup wanted clarity to ease his feelings. Jack wanted clarity to ease his confusion. Neither knew how to find it. As a result, they picked subjects they could talk about simply so they could spend time together. The two burned through the evening hours, and each felt frustrated when they called the night to end.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	10. Chapter 10

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Ten**

by D. O'Shae

Two days later, it took Jack five attempts to get Gobber's attention. When a dancing mallet appeared behind the head of one of the apprentices Gobber sent both on an arduous task to fill three buckets with a specific size of blackrock from a specific cave location. The apprentices looked at the smith like he lost his mind, but decided the safe course lay in following the order when Gobber raised the hammer where his right hand used to be. They scurried off, buckets clanging, and the sound reported the distance the two covered.

"All right, ghostie, what be yer problem today?" Gobber questioned the invisible presence.

Jack popped into view, giving Gobber a start.

"Can ye warn a man first before doing that!"

"Sorry," Jack said by rote habit, but he remained focused on one aim. "Can I ask you something about Hiccup?"

"As long as ye're not breaching any trust, I guess you can," the man replied.

"What's wrong with him?"

Gobber stared at the floating figure for a short span, and then scratched the side of his face with his hammer. He said: "Well, I think that depends on what part ye mean. His leg... well, that sort of speaks for itself. His head's always been a wee bit too big for his body, but I wouldn't go so far as to say it's wrong. Some of his ideas, now that's a different story, and..."

"No, no, Master Gobber. That's not it," Jack broke into the litany. "Something's different, changed, and I can't figure it out. The other night we were talking and we just sort of... ran out of things to say. It was weird!"

"Lad, if ye don't mind me poking and prodding a bit, how old was ye when, well, ye ended up like this?" The large Viking said and generally indicated all of Jack's form with a wave of his hand.

"I just turned thirteen."

"Oh, that young."

Gobber waddled to his workbench and expertly retrieved a thick-legged stool with his peg leg. He settled himself on it with a sigh. Then he gave Jack a look that made the immortal feel naked for a moment.

"Ye look a bit big for thirteen," the elderly Viking commented.

"I think I grew some in the last three hundred years. I can't explain it, but it happened… I think," the immortal said, and realized it sounded extremely odd coming from him.

"What'd ye say ye're at now... age wise?"

"'Bout the same age as Hiccup."

"Aye, I'd agree with that, 'cept maybe a year or two younger by the looks of ye."

Gobber gave him another scrutinizing glance and asked: "Ye didn't have much life experience when ye went through the ice, did ye?"

"I guess I had about as much as anyone my age back then," Jack answered. "There weren't any families near us, except for maybe an hour's walk away. We didn't live close to Burgess, but we'd go there every so often. It was usually my sister and me who had to entertain ourselves when we weren't doing chores. That's all we pretty much did. I always loved it when winter came 'cause then we'd have snow and ice to play with. That's sort of how I ended up like this."

The man nodded.

"I was learning how to make furniture I think, shape wood, joints, and stuff like that from my Papa. I remember some of that."

"Hiccup did say ye don't have a full recollection of who ye are... well, were. Something about memories and a faerie made of teeth. I didn't quite follow, 'cept ye don't know all about yerself."

"That's about right," the Guardian said while suppressing a smirk regarding the reference to the Tooth Fairy. He hoped to be able to share it with her one day.

"Hmm, this makes it a bit tricky 'cause I don't know what ye know and ye don't know what ye don't know, Isemaler, and if I assumed ye know when ye don't and start to talking on what ye don't know, ye won't know enough to tell me ye don't know so I can tell ye something ye don't know but needs to know. Follow?"

Jack gaped at Gobber and shook his head from side to side. The statement made his brain swim. He watched as the man took off the hammer, and replaced it with a long metal file. Gobber then reached around and started scratching his back. The immortal simply acted as a witness.

"If I started talking about folding metal, and I mean really getting down to the little bits that make all the difference when ye're hammering it out, would ye be able to follow along?" Gobber asked when he seemed to have found a particularly irksome itch.

"Ah, probably not. I don't know anything about metalworking," Jack rejoined.

"Exactly! Now ye got it, and now ye know why I don't know what to tell ye!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir."

"It's people stuff, and something ye ain't been around in a long time. I don't know what it is yer Guardians back home do and don't want ye to know. If I say too much of one thing, it might spoil ye like adding too much coke to a kiln," the man rattled on.

"Master Gobber, is there something you don't want to tell me about Hiccup because maybe I don't know?" Jack inquired, and twisted the words to see where it would lead.

"Right on the spot, ghostie boy, 'bout Hiccup and what he's all feeling and why. Seems to have got himself in bit of a jam about ye. He's worried you'll stay and die if he says something to you about it all," Gobber told him.

Jack took a moment to pick through statement and see what it contained. Part of it he already knew, but a small kernel rested inside that gave him a clue. Jack wanted to pursue it further, but he did not want to run the risk of further deception with Gobber. He nodded his head curtly a single time.

"I think I take your meaning, sir. You look after his best interests, and I respect that. I won't question you any further on this," and Jack believed all he said he said in honesty.

"Decent of ye, Isemaler. I haven't known many ghosts, but I'd said ye're top of the lot," Gobber responded, and it sounded like he tried to be complimentary.

"In all seriousness, Master Gobber, I'm really not a ghost."

"Well, we'll let that sort itself out when the time comes."

"I suppose, and thank you for your time, sir. I appreciate it," Jack said and became invisible.

"Really quite unsettling that is," Gobber muttered and turned to look at his dragon. "Grump! Keep the fire going, ye git!"

The dragon cracked an eye open and belched a searing tongue of flame into the forge. The act caught Jack by surprise. His worry over Hiccup's behavior and the possibility Gobber might offer an explanation made him forget about Grump. It appeared the dragon did not mind his presence one bit. He flew to and past the rafters, and then perched on the roof of the smith next to the chimney that now sputtered with cinders, smoke, and sparks. Jack needed to think through what the man inadvertently told him. He got a clue, but he could not decide how much of one Gobber handed him. In the end, it lacked specifics.

Jack told only Valka he intended to head to Tykkstein to check on the people a few days after talking with Gobber. He asked her to inform Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Gobber, and she promised she would. He still needed to decide exactly what Gobber told him, and further stilted conversations with Hiccup did not help. One aspect he did managed to sort out centered on the intensity of feelings he felt for Hiccup. It often got in the way because he remained uncertain exactly how to express them. Jack did not relish the idea he would say the wrong thing and alienate his Viking friend. Thus, he needed space and time to make up his mind.

The elemental soared up and over the ocean leading with his crook, following the arch of islands that ran along the top of the world. Jack did not know much about geology, but he heard about processes happening deep inside a planet that moved the land masses around and gave birth to volcanoes. He thought he remembered hearing about cracks in the surface and coupled with the movement lead to earthquakes. As he flew eastward at a dizzying speed, the immortal's sharp eyes saw a dark smudge on the horizon. He noted as well a subtle change in the clouds and traces of odd lightning.

"Take caution, stripling," Thursar H'rim's voice echoed around him. "The land sends ash and rock and flame skyward. It may not be safe even for the likes of thee."

"I have to check on the people of Tykkstein," Jack reported while continuing his flight.

"What succor dost thee hope to provide in a time such at this?"

Jack stopped flying eastward and shot straight up. He pierced the bottom of a cloud bank. It smelled subtly off. After a few moments, the unimaginably tall form of Thursar H'rim took shape some distance away. The Guardian flew toward him and halted within ten feet, clasping his staff in both hands.

"Lord of Winter, what do you know that I don't?" Jack begged.

"It began dawn of the day previous," the mighty winter immortal slowly said. "The mountain grew restless and then violent. It no longer stands as tall as it once did, Jack Frost. It blotted out the sun as though a moonless, starless midnight bestrode the land. The seas rose in fury and swept all before it away."

"Tykkstein?"

"It is no more, youngling. Had thee been with them, thou might have suffered similar," Thursar H'rim told Jack. "This is a day of the Breathless One."

Jack became instantly numb. He promised the children they would be safe from the volcano. On his last visit, ash and snow mingled together and he made a sport of it for the children. His mind brought forth images of the hundreds and hundreds of people who lived along the coastal shores of Tykkstein. He could not imagine their absence.

"Thou did not fail in thy duty, Isemaler. Some powers rage greater than thine, as thou hast come to know. This thou could not forestall, lest thee hast ability to still liquid fire and an angry sea. Thou canst mourn the loss if so inclined, but no task awaits thee there."

"They're gone," the Guardian whispered in horror to himself.

"None survived the day," Thursar H'rim confirmed although Jack did not directly ask the question.

He looked up at the towering immortal and could not detect a single emotion on the face. It reminded Jack those like Thursar H'rim stood as alien to him as he must to Hiccup and his people. He slowly nodded his head, accepting the grim fate of Tykkstein. Jack began to drift downward.

"I caution thee again, Isemaler: even the skies present danger and can offer no protection. This event hast called forth some of the stranger beasts of this world, some even that share our aspect. Be thou wary at all turns if thou proceeds to see this for thyself," the ancient immortal said, guessing the younger immortal's intent.

"I hear your words, Lord of Winter. Thank you for your concern."

The huge figure of Thursar H'rim simply mingled with the clouds and disappeared. Despite what he wanted to do, Jack could not dismiss the warning. The immortal never lied to him before regarding the powers of the world, and he could scarcely think of reason by Thursar H'rim would begin at that moment. However, Jack did feel compelled to investigate and confirm. He thought back to what Hiccup told him during his recovery from facing the Breathless One: one did not truly die if another remembered or felt the effect of that person's life. Thus, he chose a less safe path to satisfy his sense of duty.

During his fast eastward journey the air grew foul and thick as he crossed the leagues, and Jack guessed the volcano as the cause. Ash and cinders dropped out the sky like snow the closer he got to Tykkstein. The sun's rays did not penetrate the dense, roiling billows of smoke and airborne soot. He flew through a ghastly twilight, thankful for his immaterial form and the sure presence of his crook. As he neared the area, orange-green lightning streaked through the miasma of the suspended murk, but he did not feel Thursar H'rim's power. However, it held strange energies that unnerved him, so Jack descended.

The view free from the clouds got no better. When Jack broke through the base, he stared down at the sea. Enormous waves rippled across the surface, and the ocean looked as though a skin of obsidian pudding coated it. It rolled and undulated with the waves. Debris got mired in the concoction. Jack recognized some of it as man-made. He steeled himself for the worst sight imaginable as he spied the dim shape of Tykkstein in the distance. The closer he got to the island, the more the wreckage below became familiar. Every now and again he saw the form of a human body. He shuddered and tried not to contemplate the awfulness of the people's fate.

Tykkstein confused him when he arrived. Despite the harrowing conditions around it, the land appeared serene. However, not a single recognizable trace of the villages remained. As though a giant hand came and scrubbed it free, only rock and the stumps of trees dotted the lower slopes of Tykkstein. No matter where Jack flew around the island, he could find no human or human habitation. The violence of nature removed any evidence people ever lived there. All of it, he knew, got swept out to sea. Jack's heart sank when he thought about the final, terrible moments of the children's lives as the world around them turned into a rampage of destruction. Tears, magical at the moment, slid down his cheeks.

"I will remember you," he said, and it seemed the very least and last act he could do for them.

Jack began his journey back to Berk. He did not fly fast while he brought to mind the individual faces of the children he knew by name. The people of Tykkstein differed in many ways from the people of Berk. Few other islands near the devastated holding contained populations, and they did not battle on the waters as he saw other Viking clans do. Of course, Jack noted breeds of sea-dwelling dragons not described in Fishlegs' precious books existed and made life perilous. Yet the fishers of Tykkstein braved the waters and the dangers to forge a life. The elemental thought of them as a good people, as good as any other tribe he knew on Halla, and now they were gone. Sadness cloaked itself about the elemental Guardian.

The sea and sky changed the further west he traveled. The air cleared and the ocean contained only chunks of ice along with the occasional small island. The chaos from the volcanic eruption receded into the background. Jack guessed he still faced half his trek, yet he did not feel inclined to race back. The shock over the destruction of Tykkstein stayed with him, and he also wrestled with the recent, strange turn his relationship with Hiccup seemed to be taking. Jack got the impression his friend withheld something important, and he could not figure out why. Over the last many weeks, the elemental felt a growing bond between them. He came to depend on it since it offered a sense of both emotional and mental stability. No one else offered him a refuge from the complex and unusual life facing him on Halla. Hiccup made the immortal feel safe and kept him connected to people.

A roar sounded from below. Jack looked down in time to see a gigantic water dragon rise up and snatch half a flock of sea birds from the air. From the height at which he flew, the dragon looked like a pimply snake while it crashed back into the ocean, sending up huge sprays of water. A rough calculation in the immortal's head estimated it at around twenty meters in length. For second, Jack forgot about everything else while he took in the sight of the beast. He thought about flying lower to get a better look.

A hot, sharp and incredibly painful stinging sensation rippled across Jack's back, and it tore straight through is his sweatshirt. It nearly blanked his mind, and he started to topple from the air. He clutched at his staff while trying to right himself. The same agony assaulted him again along his left side. Jack screamed in pain. He dropped further, unable to control his actions or flight. Both his back and side pulsed with a lingering torment. It felt as though he bled, yet a small piece of Jack's remaining rational mind told him he retained his immaterial form. His back suffered another attack. He screamed again and plummeted toward the ocean surface. He likened the pain to Gobber dragging glowing hot strips of metal along his magical flesh. His mind fought to remain conscious, warning him he would soon crash into the water. Jack did not care.

The frigid salt water enveloped him and brought relief. Jack began to calm. He opened his eyes and looked up at the rippling surface. Above him he saw fingers of what appeared to be lightning striking the water where he landed. A bizarre purple color glowed wherever a tendril touched. The thing scared Jack since it appeared as though it expected him to surface. Fish zipped past his head, and few coursed through his insubstantial form. The water heaved around him as the titanic dragon serpent race by in pursuit of the fish school. Jack got propelled toward the surface as the water displacement surged around him. The purple jags of lightning struck the water and he could feel painful tingling along the three afflicted areas. Jack forced himself to fly down deeper into the surf despite agony movement brought.

Even during the battles with Pitch Black Jack never experienced such pain. His spine and ribs complained angrily whenever he moved. Ten feet above him small explosions of amethyst and violet crackled on the surface. Whatever generated it knew he remained in the water. It waited for him. Not since he fought the Nightmare King did he feel hunted. The thing above, he accepted without a doubt, hunted him. However unlikely, Jack realized he became prey. The only saving factor came in the fact the water appeared to present a barrier of protection. Jack floated, staring at the display over his head, and waited for the pain to subside.

The pain did not ease.

Above the sun started to set and the water around the elemental turned gray. An occasional flash of purple light lit the area, and Jack could feel it crackle many feet above him. Were it not for the fact he felt certain the creature wanted to kill him, the Guardian might appreciate the determination and patience of the beast. However, the throbbing welts of pain he felt on his back and side argued against any admiration of the dragon's abilities. As the hours passed and darkness eventually came, the young immortal started to realize he could not just float in the ocean despite the slight soothing sensation it brought to his afflicted areas. He considered how best to return to Berk.

The creature above him clearly could fly and do so in stealth. It also came armed with a formidable weapon that, against all logic, could affect him in his immaterial form. The only fact Jack did not know regarded the speed at which the beast could fly. Unfortunately, he did not thing he could reach top speed with the pain rippling through his body. The only advantage appeared to come in the shape of the ocean. Jack thought for a bit and came to conclusion he should be able to fly under the water. While movement did produce anguish in the affected areas of his body, any progress seemed better than none. Thus, the elemental man focused his will and began to move through the water.

The problem Jack encountered in flying through the water arrived in the lack of landmarks or stars to guide him. The next major problem kept pace over his head. Whatever animal targeted him, and he did think it a dragon, it knew his position. In the end, the need to get his bearings drove him to desperate actions. Jack darted as quickly as he could to the surface soared out of the water and attempted to look around. His survey got cut short by the vicious, stinging pain that lanced into his left foot and leg. Moreover, his back and side nearly crippled him when exposed to the air. Jack did his best to orient himself, hoping he properly guessed a westward direction and dropped back down into the ocean to avoid another attack. He then did his best to glide through the water as fast as he could. Above, violet sparks played sentinel.

Hiccup fretted and wandered around Berk looking for any sign of the Guardian. Children asked him if he saw Isemaler, and he sadly reported he did not. Since the Berk civil war, Jack never spent more than twenty-four hours away. Now the evening began to pass on the second day since Valka told him his friend departed. The nighttime temperature began to plummet. Hiccup turned and headed back to his house.

"I'm being stupid," he mumbled and hoped a bodiless voice would agree.

Only silence, punctuated by the echo of small icebergs hitting the cliff walls of the island, greeted his ears.

"He's a Guardian and can take care of himself… except I don't know what dangers a Guardian really faces."

He waited for an explanation. Once more Hiccup did not hear a familiar voice. Worry drove him home and would not let him sleep. He sat in his bedroom talking to Toothless who, finally, fell asleep despite his rider's constant prattling.

The black depths threatened to overturn Jack's mind. Twice he tried to make the surface to figure out his location, and twice he got attacked when in the air. After well over a day of moving through water, sometimes in an aimless pattern, he felt no closer to his destination. Flying through the deep unnerved him since it constantly reminded the elemental of the encounter with the Breathless One. At one point a chasm opened both in front of and beneath Jack and panic seized him. He nearly shot out of the ocean except a flash of purple rekindled a different fear. Jack did not have much choice. Another factor began to toy with his mind. He felt a sense of weariness he never experienced since becoming an elemental being. Lethargy dogged the Guardian and slowed his speed. Jack tried to remember the last time he truly felt exhausted in a real, physical fashion. His memory failed him. He struggled onward hoping to sort out his trajectory.

"Hiccup, standing out here in the freezing weather is not going to help," Valka informed her son on the cold, cloudy morning.

"Something's wrong, Mom. He should be back by now," Hiccup replied from his post on the dragon perch outside of the cavern, dressed in his warmest gear and his father's heavy cloak.

"I agree this isn't like him, but he might be busy doing what he needs to do… why he is what he is."

The young Viking man nodded his head.

"Don't stay out too long because I'm running out of excuses to explain why you're doing this in the first place."

"Tell them I'm watching that black cloud on the horizon," he told her. "I think that has something to do with the waves that hit us."

The elemental Guardian floated in the water fearing he could go no further. He felt drained and devoid of his powers. No matter how long he rested, Jack never felt recharged. He lost track of time. The world existed as one big ocean in which it seemed he did nothing but swim circles. Dragons and fish swam through him, and sometimes he could feel it. On occasion a school of fish would surround him and the oppressive exhaustion would lift. As soon as they scattered when another denizen of the deep chased, his respite would ebb. The places on his back, leg, and side where the creature struck throbbed with a sickly sensation. Moreover, the beast continued to pursue Jack no matter how long he remained submerged. Anger at what befell him served as his sole fuel and motivation. Even that, unfortunately, appeared to be reaching a limit.

"Hiccup, if you don't stop acting the fool and go to bed, I swear I'll use the dragon settling syrup on you!"

His mother never joked when it came to that finicky elixir she and Gothi cooked up the previous year. Half a cup could make a gronkle sleep for an entire day. Hiccup could not begin to calculate how long a single spoonful would render him unconscious. He removed himself to his loft, undressed, doused the sconces, and went to bed. He lay there in a worried state unable to sleep. The dark, barely visible ceiling served as the focus of his attention. After what seemed like hours, long after Toothless fell asleep, he closed his eyes. He tried to count to ten. Hiccup made it to seven.

The world bucked and heaved. The air became too warm to tolerate. Something constrained him. Jack tried to free himself, but weakness left him useless. He thought he called out, but Jack could not hear his own voice. Visions of the ocean surface coated in a layer of ashen mud danced in front of his eyes. He did not want to try and swim through that. The elemental feared being trapped beneath it. Jack felt too warm. He did not like the warmth. He begged for something cold, anything, to soothe the heat in his body. Jack called out repeatedly. Halla pitched one way and then another.

"Ship! Ship!" The cry carried around the square on the fifth morning since Jack failed to return to Berk.

Hiccup heard it in between beats of the hammer against anvil. People began to stream out of houses and shops toward the docks. Hiccup and Gobber joined the throng. In short order dragons with riders appeared overhead, swooping down and around edge of the cliff toward the switch ramps that led to the docks, or rather what remained of the docks. Already damaged by ice floes, the docks suffered even more when enormous powerful waves battered the eastern shores of Berk four days before. Thus, most of the Berkians milled about on the upper cliff trying to get a glimpse of the sail definitely heading toward Berk. No other craft could be seen. The vessel sailed alone. Hiccup and his mentor watched as it tacked in the cross-current wind. Minutes passed while it made slow progress.

"Here," Tuffnut said and thrust a cold tube into Hiccup's hand.

The acting chieftain raised the distance viewer to his eye. The long metal tube with glass lens placed inside did not originate on Berk. They found it on one of Alvin's ships after numerous battles, and the prisoners from that fight did not know from where it came. In the intervening years, Gobber figured out the design and learned to replicate the lens. When Fishlegs got added to the project, it became even more improved. Despite their tinkering, it made objects – like the ship – appear closer, but the image always seemed a bit blurry. It provided enough magnification for Hiccup to see the sigil on the sail and realize he did not recognize it.

"Could Fishlegs identify it?" He asked his fellow dragon rider who now leaned permanently to one side, a physical reminder of the war.

"Why do you think I brought this to you?" Tuffnut replied, more or less providing an answer.

"Too small to carry an army," Gobber speculated. "Looks like a trawler and not a trader. Bet it has two decks and one is packed with ice."

"Why would anyone go fishing in this weather?" Ruffnut inquired. She rarely strayed far from her brother. Tuffnut nearly died, and it shook the confidence of the valiant if somewhat daft female dragon rider and warrior.

"Hard winter, Ruffnut, and maybe they ran out of food," Hiccup guessed. It sounded logical.

A number of brawny men raced down to the one partial dock that could still service a craft. A white flag with a red diamond on it fluttered from a pole held aloft. It warned other boats the vicinity held unseen dangers. Frustrating though it became, none could blame the captain when the ship slowed even more. Eventually it made the dock. The longshoremen of Berk tied off the craft and secured it to the remaining length of dock. A long exchange took place between the crew and the dockhands. After few minutes, a contingent of people walked up the long lengths of the ramps. Everyone on the cliff seemed excited to see visitors after such a particularly harsh winter and terrible events.

The entourage approached Hiccup and Gobber.

"Chief Hiccup of the Hairy Hooligans?" A broad woman with iron gray hair wearing traditional fishing gear asked Gobber.

Gobber pointed to Hiccup, and the woman seemed a bit shocked. She shook it off and approached him.

"Chief Hiccup?" She repeated.

"For now at least," he replied and watched his attempt at humor die at birth.

"The name's Grahilde, captain of the Fishwife, seven days out from Spinebreack Cay," and she nodded to him.

"Be welcome in Berk, Captain Grahilde. Our shores are a haven from the storms for the Fishwife," he replied with the traditional greeting. "Let your crew take leave and we will see to their comfort until clear weather and calm seas come."

"Obliged, Chief Hiccup, but… I think we have something of yours aboard our craft," the captain said and looked perplexed. "We fished him up yesterday noon, and I'll be damned if he wasn't still alive."

"Fished what?"

"A lad of Berk. He's been calling out the island name… your name since he came 'round a bit. The water might've frozen his noggin more than a little, if you know what I mean."

Everyone listening in looked at one another with puzzled expressions. Hiccup, however, masked the sinking feeling in his gut. Whispers gradually emerged.

"I take it you're not missing anyone?" Captain Grahilde queried.

"Not… ah, that I know… of," he stumbled over his answer.

"Chief Hiccup?" Another female voiced called him by a title he wished to quit.

All eyes turned toward the sound. A young woman Hiccup did not recognize, a fact he found disconcerting, looked sheepishly in his direction. He nodded to her.

"Chief, I… pardon, but I'm Sassa, and I came in with Captain Gudmund on the Munin when all the fighting broke out. I stayed 'cause I know some healing," the young woman said. Her strawberry blond hair flapped around in the breeze.

"Our gratitude to you, Sassa," Hiccup dutifully replied.

"Sir, well, we had one of ours go missing when we got here and he ran off try and find someone. We thought he got killed, but… never did see his body. He might've headed for the sea," she said.

"But that was a month ago," Tuffnut said, and stunned most at his fast calculation.

"When we found him, he was sitting half-naked next to a small fire on a mostly empty island. Said he'd been there for a couple of days when his ship went down… never did get the name of it," Sassa reported.

"Did he have a name?" Hiccup asked.

"Called himself Jacque."

Hiccup's stomach sank further, but he maintained a calm outward expression and said: "Alright. Let's go have a look at him."

"Can I ask a favor first?" Captain Grahilde inquired.

The acting chief nodded.

"Aye, thanks. We've had a strange creature, a dragon I think, following us since we scooped the lad out of the water. Can you see your way around to sending out some of yours to scare it off?"

Hiccup let out with a loud whistle. Two dragons emerged over the cliff and hovered. He used a series of hand gestures to indicate what he wanted done. The two saluted in acknowledgment and flew off. The captain of the Fishwife watched in appreciation.

"Heard about your way with beasties, and it is something to see," she said with evident appreciation. "Come."

Ruffnut and Sassa, since she could identify the person if needed, accompanied Hiccup as neither Gobber nor Tuffnut could navigate the now treacherous ramps and docks. Two of the captain's crew joined the foursome. Circling around the ship, Earwax flew and kept guard over the vessel. While the ship did not appear menacing, vigilance never hurt. Anyone watching the scene would quickly realize the ship to be vastly outnumbered. Hence, Hiccup did not feel threatened as he walked along toward the boat. Instead, a sickening sense of panic roiled in his gut requiring his concentration to keep it at bay. Step by step he feared what he would find. When they neared the boat, the Berkian longshoremen steadied the plank so they could board. Once again, it became obvious the craft and the crew did not intend trouble and could not start any even if they even wished.

"He's down below, if that's alright," Captain Grahilde said and eyed the dragons flying around.

Hiccup made another gesture with his arm to indicate watchfulness but no attack. The riders responded they understood. He nodded to the captain.

The crew quarters below deck felt cramped and squalid. The low ceiling forced Hiccup to duck. He followed along between makeshift rows where hammocks hung between joists and spars. After edging about the aft mast, used mainly to support the net pulleys and one small sail, they came to an open area. Small, shuttered lamps provided light, but it did not seem adequate to pierce the gloom. Not until the captain lifted a vane on one of the lamps could they see much.

"Yes, that's Jacque!" Sassa immediately said while staring at a bed with a squirming figure in it.

"Keeps saying water, but doesn't want any when we offer him cup," the captain said, sounding concerned.

Hiccup stood staring at the head poking out from under the blankets. The face belonged to Jack, but the brown hair, brown eyes, and dark eyebrows did not. He looked around.

"So all you found was him?" He asked.

"From about twenty feet down, and who knows how long he was there. I can't figure out how he's alive! Should be stone cold dead near as I can reckon," Captain Grahilde blurted, clearly bewildered by the young man they pulled from the sea.

As a group, they watched the young man weakly thrash under the blanks.

"Hiccup… Toothless," the man's voice feebly uttered.

"And that's another thing: he's got a full set of teeth, but he's worried about his for some reason."

"No, it's not that. He knows us somehow. He knows my dragon," Hiccup said and let his disbelief show. He knew without a doubt Jack lay under the covers. A horrible fear swept through him, yet he again presented outward composure. "We'll take care of him, Captain. You have my word."

"I don't want to put you out…"

"Is a ship trawling the waters really the best place for him?" The acting clan chief inquired.

Captain Grahilde shook her head. Hiccup walked over to the struggling figure of his friend, without waiting for assistance he reached down and scooped up the body and the blanket. Jack seemed impossibly light, and Hiccup did not feel as though anything rested in his arms. Everything about the elemental's condition appeared wrong to the Viking, yet he could say nothing at the moment. Thus, Hiccup forced himself to act concerned, but not overly so.

"Captain, get what provisions you can from our stores, and please feel free to take harbor with us," he offered again.

"We only need a few provisions to see us back to Spinebreak, and we've a hold full of fish to get there, so we'll be pulling weigh and setting sail with the evening winds," she said. "But we thank'ee for the offer."

Hiccup nodded. He turned, ducked a little, and began to exit the crew quarters. Jack continued to wiggle, and the weakness of it further distressed Hiccup. He climbed the stairs without any problem and stepped out onto the deck. Ruffnut and Sassa joined him.

"I'll put him up in my house since we have the room," he said as if no other alternative existed. "Ruffnut, tell Gobber to help the captain get what she needs. Then find Valka and send her home to examine this… man. Sassa, I'll be calling on you later to get more information."

"What if he dies?" Ruffnut inquired in her uniquely direct and impersonal manner.

The thought nearly paralyzed Hiccup. He shrugged since his voice suddenly failed to cooperate. His compatriot's comment urged him on. The Viking chief lifted his head.

"Toothless!" He loudly called, and then said to the ship's crew: "It'll be easier to fly him."

Less than half a minute later the midnight dragon swooped over the cliff edge and downward. He landed in front of Hiccup, deftly avoiding the mast, rigging, and spars. The crew of ship jumped back while the boat gently rocked. Toothless walked up to his rider and warily sniffed at the blanket-draped figure. The dragon's eyes went wide while his head snapped up to look at Hiccup.

"He's not a threat," Hiccup said as if to explain the beast's reaction. "He's sick, and I need you to fly us home."

Toothless did an about face and presented his mounting side to his human companion.

"Amazing," Captain Grahilde said while staring at Toothless.

"He's more than that," Hiccup said, accepting the compliment, and speaking the truth as he knew it. "Captain, our thanks."

The woman nodded while the Viking mounted the dragon. Since he did not intend to make it a wild flight, Hiccup did not strap himself to the saddle. He harbored no fear Toothless would let either of them fall.

"Up, Toothless, and take it slow."

The dragon waddled around the mast to the gunwale. With a powerful thrust of his legs, Toothless sent them aloft while unfurling his wings. A single powerful down stroke sent them higher and into flight, but he kept his back level. Hiccup held Jack close to him. Below, noise broke out as the Berkians began to greet the ship's crew, following the lead of their leader. Hiccup clamped down on his sense of fear over the condition of the Guardian in his arms. Jack continued to weakly thrash. The near absence of weight worried the Viking most, and he wondered what could be wrong. Toothless gently glided toward the house once he cleared the cliff. The dragon, despite size and strength, could be extremely gentle when needed. Without being asked, Toothless carefully landed on the porch instead of the roof. That day, he earned new gratitude from his rider.

"Go make sure Mom comes here right away," Hiccup further instructed the dragon.

Toothless darted back into the sky. Hiccup wrestled with the door latch while trying to keep Jack steady, who squirmed yet again. Moment by moment Hiccup's want to panic threatened to overwhelm him, yet he fought it back at each instance. He knew it would do Jack no good if he lost control. With that in mind, Hiccup entered the house, closed the door with a kick of his peg leg, and aimed for the stairs. The door bore scars of many such encounters. Climbing up narrow steps carved into the log proved a test of his skill, and he worried he might fall over. At the top he set the body of his sick friend down so he could climb onto the floor. Hiccup decided in that moment to build a proper set of stairs when the first chance arose. The young Viking man carefully picked up the elemental and carried him toward the bed.

"Hiccup?" Valka said a few minutes later while she climbed through the dragon portal.

"Mom!" He begged with the single word.

Valka jumped down from the dragon landing with deft skill. She saw the form lying on her son's bed, the blanket pulled down revealing a naked upper torso of bluish colored skin. Hiccup could not begin to imagine what happened to Jack's hoodie. The red, somewhat brown lines and welts revealed along the left rib cage made her gasp. Dark rings circled the few welts that swelled.

"What…?" She could not finish the question.

"It's on his back and left leg, too," Hiccup added in a rush. "I don't know what it is!"

He stood back while his mother stepped forward, slipping out of her winter jacket and dropping it on the floor. She knelt carefully on the bed and approached the writhing figure. With long, nimble fingers she gently probed the markings and raised bumps. Whenever Valka touched anywhere near the afflicted areas, Jack let out a soft groan. Hiccup watched his mother's face. Her eyebrows slowly drew together as she examined the elemental man.

"This… it's beyond me, Hiccup. I don't know enough about his… body or what he is to say what this is," Valka said and pointed to the damaged skin. "It looks like he got into a thick of stinging sea nettles, but… I've never seen anything like this."

"What do we do?" Hiccup quietly asked and then spoke his worst fear. "I think he's dying, Mom."

Valka gave her son a blank stare.

"Mom?" He begged while tears slid out of his eyes.

"Son, I just don't know," she apologetically replied. "Maybe… clotted goat's milk might take out some of the poison, but… I'll need to think, Hiccup. I simply don't know right now."

Hiccup did not waste time. While some might consider the use of a precious food commodity like goat's milk a waste, the young Viking man would forgo the sustaining liquid for a year if it would aid his friend. Each second he renewed his effort to beat back the dismay and dread wanting to take over his mind. The main task, he reminded himself over and over, centered on saving Jack's life.

When he applied the clotted milk and bandages to the cool skin of Jack, a terrible commotion erupted outside the house. His mother darted out the door when Toothless' roar and that of other dragons echoed through the valley. Hiccup's fighting instincts kicked in, but he focused instead on finishing his ministrations. Once complete and after wrapping Jack back in the blanket and centering him on the bed, he jumped up on the dragon ledge and let himself out of the portal.

"What in Thor's name?" He gasped when saw the cause of the ruckus.

Toothless, Winghead, and Barf and Belch hovered in the air, each snarling and snapping at the strangest dragon Hiccup ever saw. It looked more like an airborne sea kite, but the elongated head with the elongated snout and rows of sharp teeth set it apart from that ocean-dwelling, odd fish. The dark gray body with bright red lines running from head to tail and wingtip appeared scale-less and slick. The flapping of the triangular wings kept it aloft but also caused the animal to dip up and down in the air. What came out of its mouth added an extra dimension of terror rarely seen in Berk. Bolts of purplish lightning shot out of the creature like whips. The long glowing tendrils snapped in the air, and the flailing kept the other dragons at bay. It tried twice to dart toward the house, only to meet a ball of plasma from Toothless.

The twin heads of Barf and Belch distracted and harried the frightening new dragon. The sparks emitted by Barf seemed to cause it worry. For reasons unknown, it ignored the hobblegrunt. Winghead turned a deep red color to indicate its anger. It dropped below the other dragons. The strands of lightning did not reach more than ten feet. Toothless let out with another burst of plasma when the strange dragon attempted to dart to one side. Belch blinded it on one side with an emission of gas. Barf's head could not reach the plume to ignite it because of the lightning, but Winghead displayed cleverness. The dragon sent a searing jet upward as befitting a stoker class dragon. The zippleback gas ignited. The lightning dragon screeched. Toothless shot out a hot ball of plasma that hit the offending dragon square in the head. The creature made a hacking sound, and then fell out of the sky.

The thud and crunch reverberating in the air when it landed announced its condition. The three hovering dragons swooped down, but not within reach of the beast's attack. None came. Hiccup looked over the edge and saw the red lines of the dragon's body fade to black. Everyone maintained a position at the ready and waited. Minutes ticked by. The dragon neither moved nor showed any signs of life. For good measure, Hiccup directed Toothless to fire another shot at it. The dragon complied, and scorched the head of the creature. It never flinched.

"Toothless," Hiccup called to his dragon.

The dragon flew over and Hiccup jumped onto the sturdy back. The two then sailed to the ground. Already other dragon riders came running, but Hiccup motioned to keep their distance. They stood in silence watching the body of the new dragon. Hiccup reached into a snow bank, grabbed a fistful of the stuff, formed a snowball, and chucked it at the inert dragon's charred face. It hit. The dragon never moved. Hiccup approached slowly. With his peg leg, he poked at the creature. Toothless growled at the action. It became increasing obvious the dragon perished. Hiccup glanced at the other dragon riders.

"Rancid," he said to a tall, fierce looking young man with a wild shock of jet hair. "Get Fishlegs to take a look at this dragon. Warn him about what it can do. Muddy, you and Footgunk keep people away. We don't want this thing to wake up and find something to eat."

The three dragon riders nodded their understanding. As Hiccup trotted around to the front of his how, he saw Rancid on Winghead take to the air. Hiccup noted again the two were a good pair and should be considered for more responsibility. His normal moment came to an abrupt end as he thought about why he ran to the house, and he added more speed. Aside from almost toppling off the stairs to his bedroom, Hiccup made record time.

To his relief, Jack looked calmer, but that only meant he moved less. The elemental's face also appeared a bit more relaxed. He stood watching the Guardian as doubt and worry wormed its way through every fiber of his being. Unless he or someone else, consisting of exactly three other people, could figure out what happened to the elemental man, he could not be assured anything they tried could or would help. Hiccup hated guesswork.

"How's he doing?" Fishlegs voice asked from the stairwell as the gray eyes peered over the floor ledge.

"He who?" Hiccup rejoined in an irritated manner since he stood guard over his friend for over an hour and could think of nothing to help.

"Isemaler."

"How do you know it's him?"

"Well, by your reaction for starters," his friend said.

"Come up here and take a look," the acting Viking chieftain offered as even the momentary anger got consumed by his feeling of dread.

Hiccup turned his head. His burly friend wore a different smock, a large apron in actuality, and it stunk like fish. Fishlegs then finished climbing he stares. Large, bizarre stains of bright pink dappled the dark brown leather. His favorite set of waxed gloves hung wedged under the apron tie cord, and they too bore pink stains. Most of all, everything oozed an odor of half-rotten fish.

The odoriferous Viking slowly walked up. Hiccup watched Fishlegs' eyes take in the site of Jack. Without waiting to be asked, Hiccup crawled onto the bed. He carefully unwrapped the immortal young man, and the lowered the blanket to Jack's navel. After removing some of the bandages to reveal the nodules, Fishlegs hissed. Hiccup glanced back to gauge the other Viking's reaction. The incredibly intelligent Viking looked stunned.

"Why is his hair…" Fishlegs started to question, but then Hiccup saw him looked at the real issue. "What in the name of Odin is that?"

"I… don't know," Hiccup forced the words out of his mouth.

They stood together just looking at Jack. In all the time Hiccup cooked up plans ranging from absurd to astonishing, he found himself at a loss. He did not know how to plan for something like this, like Jack. From the very first time he met the elemental, Jack added a constant element of surprise. Now the Guardian needed him to be surprising, and Hiccup felt he let his friend down. Whatever caused his wounds baffled his incisive and sharp mind, and the fear he felt for the young immortal made it worse. His mother came up empty handed, and now he turned to his last resource. Hiccup looked at the one contemporary mortal friend who stood by him even at the worst of times.

"Fishlegs?" Hiccup asked with the name.

"Hiccup, if I knew more about what he is maybe… I might come up with an idea, but I don't really know Isemaler," the stout young Viking quietly rejoined.

"He's… winter… a man of ice and snow. He commands it. He protects children, makes them laugh, reminds them to have fun, he's… he called himself the Spirit of Fun, but what could afflict that?"

"Wait, didn't you say he' borrowing power from something else because this isn't his world? Isn't he cut off from his usual source?"

Hiccup nodded and marveled again at Fishlegs' ability to recall small but important details.

"Do you know who is lending him the power?" Fishlegs inquired.

Hiccup turned to face his friend. He felt stupid for not even remembering his own recent past with the immortal because fear and worry blinded him with panic. He blinked several times as he riffled through the information in his brain.

"Well?" His friend prompted.

"He… Isemaler… Fishlegs, we'd need to be very careful about anything dealing with that… source," Hiccup said as he remembered the specifics.

"Why? What is it?"

"Lord of Winter."

"The lord of…" Fishlegs started to say.

"No, Lord of Winter. Isemaler was really specific about the name," he corrected. "It… he controls winter here."

"I thought that was Skadi."

"We may not have it exactly right, Fishlegs. I heard Isemaler talking to… it… before. His," and Hiccup shrugged because he never quite figured out the gender of the being, "name is Thursar… something or other… Rim."

"Are you saying we're dealing with a frost giant? A rime-thursar?" The larger of the two Viking's asked with a rising note of panic in his voice.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Hiccup replied while shaking his head back and forth. "Not one of them, but the two might be related. What we're talking about is much, much more powerful. It's a god, Fishlegs!"

Naked fear rippled across Fishlegs' face.

"If anyone can help Isemaler, then it would be Lord of Winter. They're… kind of the same… somehow."

"How would you even contact it?" His mortal friend queried.

There lay the crux of the matter. Jack appeared mentally connected to the being. Hiccup only ever heard one side of the conversation, but he did not doubt Lord of Winter existed. As he thought, he recalled Jack saying he often spoke with the being while high in the air and in the clouds, except on the single occasion a conversation happened on Hiccup's bed. However, he believed that to be a one-time occurrence. He swallowed hard.

"We have to fly up to the clouds where it lives," he told his friend. "Probably in a snowstorm."

"But what if the sky is clear?" Fishlegs brought up an annoyingly good point.

"Either I wait or I fly out find Lord of Winter."

They looked at Jack.

"He might not have enough time to wait," Hiccup's fellow dragon rider said in a low, nervous voice.

Therein lay the real issue. No one could guess how much longer the Guardian could resist whatever happened to him. Even now Hiccup thought his friend appeared weaker. Jack no longer thrashed with the same strength he did just over an hour ago. His worry redoubled.

"Hiccup, before you do anything like I know you're going to do," Fishlegs said as preamble, "that dragon you guys killed… it's really weird."

Hiccup simply stared at the walking dragon encyclopedia.

"Okay, I've never dissected a lightning dragon before, but I don't think this was one."

"Why not?"

"Every time I tried to cut into one of the… I guess you'd call it a lightning gland, it exploded, and then this purple mist would float around for a few minutes," the wide Viking explained.

"Is that where all that pink stuff came from?" Hiccup queried and indicated the stains.

"Yeah, most of it, but here's the part you're really going to find strange: when I tried to fan away those little purple clouds, my hands just passed right through them."

"It's a gas, so… that sounds right."

"Except when I say passed right through them, they never changed shape or broke apart or anything. It was like I couldn't even touch them."

Hiccup, knowing Fishlegs could overreact but did not give in much to exaggeration, eyed the Viking. As they stared at one another, the acting chieftain felt the ideas in his head regarding the nature of the beast should not be uttered. It all seemed too impossible. Fishlegs just nodded to emphasize the accuracy of his report. He looked at Jack again. The lumpy welts on his body did not seem affected by the goat's milk poultice. This caused more concern. Pieces started to click together in dragon rider's mind.

"That dragon we killed kept trying to get into the house," he slowly said. "Do you think it attacked Isemaler and knew he's in here?"

"Dragons are hunters, but why would anything hunt a being like Isemaler? What would it be hunting?" Fishlegs applied his thinking.

Again more questions than answers surfaced. When it came to the immortal, Hiccup could not deny this exceeded their knowledge and, to no less a degree, their imagination. The thinner of the two Vikings grew increasingly certain Jack would die if they failed to do something. He felt their options severely limited. The time arrived when the outrageous needed to be considered.

"I have to go find Lord of Winter," he quietly stated. "I know he's the only one who can help now."

"You know how insane that is, right?" Fishlegs pressed.

Hiccup's head moved up and down once. Toothless' nest sat empty since the dragon kept vigil outside in case any more attacks came. Without wanting to debate his decision, Hiccup started moving around his room securing his warmest flying gear. If the being he planned to find lived up to the name, it would be a cold meeting. He did not care. His feelings for Jack drove him to desperate acts. Hiccup recognized that only a single creature like Jack existed in his world. The Guardian not only deserved but required saving. If it meant risking his life, then Hiccup felt obligated to do that. A duty to protect also rested on his shoulders.

"Hiccup, are you sure about this?" His friend asked, caution tinting his every word.

"He's special, Fishlegs. You've got to know that," he stated and his friend slowly nodded. "I've got to do whatever I can to keep him alive."

"Why you?"

"Because he came to me first. I don't know why, and Isemaler never told me, but… I couldn't live with myself if I just stand here and watch him die," Hiccup explained part of his reason.

"It's because you care for him, and I mean really, really care for him, isn't it?" Fishlegs, ever insightful and intelligent, inquired.

Hiccup simply stared into his friend's gray eyes. He saw his face reflected in the orbs, and it looked drawn. After a few seconds, he gave a curt bob of his head.

"Would you do the same for me?" The blonde Viking questioned.

"In a heartbeat, Fishlegs. I don't love you any less, just… differently."

"Go, and be careful."

"Tell my mom and Gobber what I'm doing if they ask," Hiccup said while trotting toward the stairs.

"I'm telling them even if they don't," Fishlegs retorted.

Hiccup did not want to waste time arguing, so he mounted the steps and climbed down. The floor above him creaked. He glanced up and saw Fishlegs looking down on him. The grim set of his friend's face compelled him to more haste. He ran around the house getting what he needed, including extra provisions for both he and Toothless in case the task took longer than anticipated. Hiccup stopped for a second when he realized no manner existed to estimate how long it would take find and appeal to Lord of Winter. The dragon rider then jammed the fur-lined helmet on his head, settled the packs on his shoulder, and darted out of the house.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	11. Chapter 11

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Eleven**

by D. O'Shae

"Toothless!" He yelled while glancing at the mid-morning sun.

The dragon's response came from above his head, and a jet body glided down. When he landed, Hiccup looked in the yellow-green eyes. A fearless, almost reckless, bravery lived in those eyes. However, what Hiccup planned did verge on insanity as Fishlegs pointed out.

"Bud, we're going to do something completely stupid and dangerous 'cause Jack's dying," he quietly told his best friend. "I don't want to make you do this, so I'm begging. I need to go find the being who lives in the clouds and makes winter. Will you help me?"

He received an answer when Toothless presented the mounting side. Hiccup did not waste a second as he attached the saddle and bags on his best friend, climbed aboard, and started to strap in. Another dragon rider soared overhead and circled. After a few complicated hand gestures telling the rider to continue patrolling, Hiccup affectionately slapped the side of the dragon's neck.

"I love you, Toothless," he mumbled since Hiccup could think of no other way to convey his thanks for the beast's willingness.

The dragon rumbled as if snickering.

"Up!" The dragon rider commanded.

Toothless launched into the air with such force it nearly gave Hiccup whiplash. The leathery black wings flapped and surged with a confidence his rider did not entirely feel. Berk appeared to drop away as they gained height. Only a few wispy clouds studded the sky, and Hiccup scanned from horizon to horizon until he found the tell-tale gray smudge far, far in the distance. He aimed Toothless in the west-southwest direction. The dragon followed the order. Hence, they began to chase down a god.

Jack's eyes flew open. He felt tired and weak, drained from head to toe. However, his mind put together the last few snippets of conversation he overheard. It forced him to wakefulness.

"It's impossible, Hiccup," he whispered in thin voice.

Jack's eyes closed and he returned to half-conscious realm in his mind. Something lulled him, begged him to sleep, and urged him to just lie still. He did not trust the sensation and tried to fight it. In some ways, it reminded the Guardian of the false promises of the Boogeyman. As much as he could, he fought to hang onto himself.

For over four hours man and dragon relentlessly chased the storm on the horizon. Distances could be deceiving at that height. Regardless, Hiccup and Toothless pressed on. The rider feared he might overtax the dragon, but Toothless settled into a familiar long-distance flight rhythm early on. The dragon also deftly rode the air currents; thus saving energy.

Along the way the Viking rehearsed, or rather tried, his appeal to Lord of Winter. He could not fathom what one said to god face-to-face when asking for help. The long flight gave him ample time to mull it over. Gradually clouds began to take shape above them. The nebulous constructs turned from white to a dull gray. Another hour passed before Hiccup saw the first flakes of snow as the sun dipped toward the horizon. When the flurry began to increase and the winds picked up speed, he directed the dragon into the most dangerous part of their mission: he flew Toothless into the heart of a snowstorm.

White and gray mingled to create a completely indistinct landscape, a featureless mass that appeared to stretch on forever. Only gravity and the sure senses of the dragon kept down and up separate from one another. Hiccup continued to urge an upward flight. Toothless complied. Soon, cloud and snow obscured everything, including the nearly black hide of the dragon. The two struggled against the cold and wind. Fighting against a storm after such a long flight worried the Viking, but he committed himself to the task.

"Lord of Winter!" Hiccup called out, and his voice seemed to disappear. "Lord of Winter, I beg you, please, help Jack… Isemaler or whatever you call him"

Only the eerie hiss of falling snow reached Hiccup's ears.

"He's dying! He will die, Lord of Winter. Something attacked him and we don't know how to care for Jack or the wounds. We're just mortal!"

Strong winds blew around them making the white flakes swirl faster. Toothless hovered as best he could, but the uniform visual field made it impossible to determine if they stayed in one location or drifted with the wind. It did not matter. His rider knew trying to maintain the position severely taxed endurance and strength.

"Don't you care?" Hiccup yelled into the storm. "Doesn't it matter to you if he lives or dies? He's one of your own! Help him! Please!"

The dragon rider did not notice the tears leaking from his eyes froze to his cheeks. He did not notice the temperature dropping all around and the growing sluggishness of Toothless' wing strokes. Hiccup continued to search the blowing particles of ice for any sign his words made any impact. He felt the dragon start to dip and realized they did not have much longer to carry out the campaign.

"Is this all you're good for? Just snow and wind and clouds? You gave Jack power to carry out his duty, and he always – ALWAYS! – said you were to thank for it. He respects you, and for what? So you can just watch him die because you're too busy living in the sky?"

Hiccup's stomach gave an awful lurch when their height suddenly dropped by several dozen yards. He knew Toothless neared the breaking point. The frigid temperatures sucked the strength from the beast. Fear he would lose Toothless and himself, as well as Jack, propelled the final words from his mouth.

"You have no value," his seethed at the clouds. "You're not a lord of anything. You have no subjects, and the only one you ever did have is dying. When Jack is gone, we will forget your name and curse the winter forever!"

Toothless reached his limit. Suddenly they started to fall. Hiccup lay against snow-covered hide and hoped the dragon could pull them out of the free fall before crashing into either land or sea. The Viking could feel the dragon trying to control their descent through the swirling chaos. They fell below the clouds into the heavy snow. Hiccup tried to scan the area below them to see if he could spot any place Toothless could safely land. The dragon did its best, but it could not maintain flight. He spread his wings and they haphazardly coasted downward through the blizzard, unable to judge the distance to the surface of anything.

Blind luck, Hiccup knew, allowed them to land on a huge floe of ice. It wobbled as it bobbed in the ocean, but it offered a perch for the exhausted dragon. Hiccup opened one of the side packs and pulled out the emergency rations. He fed the entire cake of dried fish to Toothless. The dragon gratefully chomped on it. Hiccup did not consider the ramification when he emptied the second of three emergency food supplies and gave it to his beloved friend. The iceberg continued to weave in the choppy sea. Hiccup looked up into the snowstorm.

"You are nothing and deserve to be nothing," he spat at the snow.

"Thou goes too far, mortal," a gigantic voice filled his head.

Toothless stopped chewing and cowered.

"Jack Frost assumed his risks and knew of them," the voice beat against the inside of Hiccup's head. "That he failed to account for the spokelsedrake is not my doing."

"Then let him die, you worthless god. At least he brought some good into the world," Hiccup yelled at the pain in his skull.

It seemed a titanic weight settled on them. He could feel Toothless crouch lower, and the dragon's legs begin to tremble. Hiccup started to believe he pressed his luck too far with the powerful being, and both of them would die because of it. His sadness at the loss of both Toothless and Jack quickly ate away at Hiccup.

"The young of the spokelsedrake nestle in the flesh of Isemaler. Remove them and Jack Frost may yet live."

"How?" Hiccup whispered against the throbbing agony inside his brain.

A great gust of wind unlike anything Hiccup ever experienced came up under both he and Toothless. They got violently tossed into the sky, and it tumbled them as easily as it did the snowflakes. It seemed to go on and on without end. Hiccup clung frantically to Toothless neck, and the dragon tightly furled its wings and drew up his legs to protect them from the tempest. It seemed a small eternity passed, and Hiccup finally threw up inside his helmet because of the torture inflicted on his gut. Lord of Winter clearly punished him for his insolence, no matter how undeserved. However, a precious piece of information took root in his head alongside the splitting headache. He prayed the terrible torment would end when his stomach disgorged a second round of vomit. It coated the inside of helmet and the whole of Hiccup's face. He closed his eyes and wondered if he failed after all.

The rolling and twisting in the air turned into a nightmare. It seemed it would never end. Hi stomach rejected the motions yet again. Hiccup clung to Toothless as best he could and hoped the straps would be enough to hold him. The dragon appeared to understand the danger and curled both tail and wings against his body. The unimaginably strong winds continued to batter them, held them aloft, and lashed them without end. It began to take a toll on the human. The ceaseless action robbed Hiccup of his senses. He started to lose his grip on both the dragon and reality. Dread and fear coursed through every limb, down to his finger and toe tips, and he thought he would not live through the experience. Thus, before consciousness got stripped from him, a crushing depression that he failed Jack filled him.

Cold darkness. Heavy weight. Horrible stench. Fighting will.

The dragon rider fought to regain consciousness. Something pressed down on him and made it difficult to breathe. He moved his arms, and found one trapped. Hiccup began to struggle. The weight shifted, but not because of his exertions. A low rumbling sound crept up around him. The darkness gave way and a pale, white light assaulted Hiccup's eyes. He groaned as pain lanced through his head. Whatever pinned him shifted again, and his arms came free although his lower torso remained constrained. The young man raised his arms, one feeling next to useless since blood just started to flow through it. He pushed against the black object in front of him. It grunted and slowly lifted a short ways in the air, freeing him entirely.

A big yellow-green object hovered before his face.

"Toothless, I'm not dead, so move your head," Hiccup requested in a squeaky voice.

The dragon complied. Once the obstruction retreated, Hiccup sat up. Moonlight glowed on the edge of his periphery providing enough light to see. He scanned the area around them. By some strange fortune they were lying on a small island. Ten feet in any direction and they would slip into the ocean. While he considered their fortune, his right arm started to tingle in agony the only way a limb denied of blood for an extended period could. He flexed and massaged it hoping to reduce the pins and needles sensation. Ten seconds after that, his legs produced the same awful feeling. For three minutes Hiccup rolled around cursing anything he could think of in order to distract himself from the pain. Toothless sat to one side and watched.

"Not your fault, bud: you were trying to keep me warm," Hiccup said through gritted teeth.

While blood returned to his limbs, Hiccup tried to reconstruct events. He remembered hurling insults at Thursar H'rim when Lord of Winter would not so much as acknowledge him or his cause. The last insult that resulted in a response burned in his memory, but mainly because it connected to the only possible hope he could find for Jack, or who he now knew to be Jack Frost. The name fit so perfectly he would never forget it. The mission that drove Hiccup to such lengths bubbled to the surface, and a new sense of panic surged in him. How long, he wondered, did he lay unconscious with Toothless covering him? Nighttime still covered the land, but the sky only held a thin veil of clouds. The small island appeared mostly windswept. Hiccup pondered how far the gale of Thursar H'rim carried them. Aches and pains aside, he needed to determine where they landed and the amount of time they lay there.

The moon rode the southwestern horizon, so that told him dawn would arrive in an hour or two. Hiccup spit while he swore. At least twelve hours if not more got lost for insulting a god or whatever Lord of Winter happened to be. When he tried to stand, he wobbled and reached a hand out. Toothless leaned over to help support him. Panic continued to swirl in his stomach, and Hiccup attempted to tamp it down. At this point, any further wrong decisions would cost lives. He placed a hard grip on his mental state. The dragon rider looked at the dragon.

"I owe you another one, bud," Hiccup said in a quiet voice. "Hungry?"

Toothless sat up with a look of expectation. The dragon rider reached around to the last emergency ration. He hauled out the large cake of dried fish and offered it to his friend. Toothless snatched it and began chewing. It would take a minute or two before the beast masticated it completely, and that gave the human more time to think. Almost above any other concern, they needed to return to Berk. He now possessed a piece of information that could save the immortal's life. The dragon, in the meantime, began to nose around the island. Wherever the creature found a pile of snow or sheet of ice not coated in stones, he ate it. After consuming all available sources, Toothless returned to him. Hiccup found his helmet and hit against the ground several times to dislodge as much of the frozen vomit as he could. Then he jammed it on his head and mounted the dragon.

"The next time I tell you we're going to go up against a god, just bite off my other leg," Hiccup said to Toothless, using humor to keep himself emotionally balanced. "If you see a good source of snow or water, go for it."

The dragon half-growled and seemed to understand the edict.

The reality of why he found himself in his current condition returned to his mind. The rider wondered if the dragon possessed enough strength to fly them home. Hiccup did not doubt the determination or will of Toothless, yet he feared the dragon would mortally injure himself trying to live up to the demand. Few understood the pride nestled deep in a dragon's body and mind.

"What do you think, bud? Can you get us home?" Hiccup gently asked his best friend in the hopes Toothless would miss the dire need the request hid.

Toothless craned his head around. He opened his mouth and let loose with a roar that removed any doubt the dragon would give it his all. The Viking affectionately slapped neck of his friend, avoiding the traces of vomit.

"Okay, Toothless, but don't kill yourself trying. Got it?"

The next roar did not rival the first, but Hiccup thought he heard tones of indignation in the bugle. Hiccup steeled his nerves and gave the signal. Toothless extended his wings and started to flap as he pushed off with his hind legs. The manner of take-off told the rider the beast could not be considered fresh by any stretch of the imagination. When they got high enough, Toothless flew in spiral so he could get their bearing.

"Merciful Odin," Hiccup sighed when he spotted a chain of islands he recognized.

The Lord of Winter, despite his apparent anger, blew them in the right direction and for quite a ways. By his reckoning, Toothless would only need to fly for two hours, possibly less, if the creature could keep a regular speed. The Viking aimed them in the right direction and spurred the beast on. The wind stayed at their backs and actually aided the flight. Hiccup wondered if the assistance could be purposeful, but he did not want to press his luck by initiating another conversation with the winter god. Jack said he did not believe the one called Thursar H'rim a god, but Hiccup held a different opinion. He did not harbor any delusions about his safety when meeting with the being: Thursar H'rim could have destroyed both man and dragon in a second.

Islands and sea passed under them as they flew and he considered the overall risk of his mission. However, Hiccup knew he would undertake it every time to save Jack's life. The more he thought about the elemental, the more he wanted to urge Toothless to fly faster. However, he knew that would truly be a foolhardy move. Thus, he occupied his mind by watching the moon set on his left while the edge of the world on his right transformed into a deep, velvety indigo. Little by little the sky turned from black to purple to gray. Then a gaudy rose color appeared in the east. To a trained flyer, this signaled a storm approached. Hiccup got the awkward feeling he entered into a race with Lord of Winter.

When the sun just crested the horizon, Hiccup saw their goal. He would recognize the island of Berk even during a moonless night. Toothless, it seemed, recognized it as well and changed their flight path. Hiccup started to pay attention to the dragon's motions. The wings beat, but with a laggard effort. Without complaint the beast pushed himself again to the point of full physical exhaustion. A new worry entered the dragon rider's mind. Toothless struggled by the time they arrived at Berk proper. The dragon seemed to be spending every last reserve as they crested the western edge of the island. The rooftops of the village became a jagged line in the new dawn. However, Hiccup could feel spasms and twitches in the powerful muscles. He reached down and soothingly rubbed his friend's neck.

"Just glide, buddy," he soothingly suggested. "We're close enough."

Even the act of holding his wings out caused tremors throughout the midnight body. However, the dragon sustained an even and level flight. The village of Berk transformed from a rough blob to a cluster of blobs to individual buildings as they lost altitude. Hiccup decided to let the dragon decide how best to approach a landing. When his house appeared, Toothless banked into a turn. They picked up speed as the wings subtly changed angle of deflection and shape. The space between the Great Hall and the house came into view. Hiccup got an idea of what Toothless intended to do and he braced himself. The ground neared, the wings increased tilt, and they slowed to a barely sustainable flight speed. Then using innate precision, Toothless let his stomach graze the snow and sink into it. The drag slowed them until they slid to a halt, burying the dragon's head in white powder.

Hiccup blinked and looked around. Then he leaned over, placed his arms around the dragon's neck, squeezed, and said: "You are incredible, Toothless."

Toothless let out with a satisfied grunt. The human unbuckled and slid from the dragon's back. He removed the crusty helmet, vomit causing his hair to stick up in strange spikes, and then undid the harness and saddle from his mount. Once unencumbered, Toothless stretched out his back and legs.

"Go to the cavern and eat whatever you want. You've more than earned it."

He and the dragon exchanged a quick glance. Toothless trotted off, and Hiccup noted he did not fly. Pride over the accomplishment of his friend warred with the nature of his mission. With saddle, tack and repulsive helm in hand and underarm, Hiccup raced around the side and toward the entrance of the house. He darted up the steps, cramped muscles complained the entire run and to the door. Dropping everything, he pulled the latch and entered. Lamplight met his eyes and he winced.

"Hiccup!" His mother's voice rang out. Moments later her head appeared around the wall, and she gazed at her son for a moment as she tied her long auburn hair into a bun. "Where in blazes have you been?"

"Mom, I know how to help him," Hiccup said in a rush. "It's a long story that can wait for later. I think we can help him."

"Go wash your head before you do," Valka said with a wrinkle of her nose. "What happened to you?"

"Part of the long story that, unfortunately, involves throwing up," he replied while undoing the buckles on his flight gear. He gave his mother a worried look and asked: "How is he doing?"

"He… lives," she answered while closing the front door. She already wore her work clothes, apparently prepared to go to the dragon cavern. "It's not good, Hiccup."

Hiccup ignored her words while he stripped off his jacket, found more hardened vomit, and let it all fall to the floor. He trotted to the wash bin in the galley. Hiccup spent less than two minutes scrubbing the foulness form his face, head, neck, and other places where it seeped. While not perfect, it vastly improved his condition. He spun on one booted heel, and grabbed a hand towel from the sink rack.

"Is Fishlegs here?" He asked as he wiped down his face and neck.

"Upstairs," his mother replied. "He spent the night sleeping on the floor next to the bed. Meatlug just left to go eat."

They exchanged a meaningful glance in appreciation for the stout young Viking. Despite Fishlegs' misgivings about Jack, he proved far more loyal than expected. Hiccup planned on making it up to his friend any way he could when the ordeal ended. Following the silent exchange, he set his mind to the task at hand.

"I need your sharpest blade and towels… and hot water if any is on the hearth," Hiccup pleaded while he grabbed a bottle of liquor from one of the storage cabinets and some cloths that he dipped into water.

"Hiccup?" Valka asked while also springing into action.

"There're some sort of… eggs… parasites in Isemaler," he said while running toward the stairs.

"Those lumps?" Fishlegs called from the upper level, and he sounded groggy.

Hiccup started to climb stairs and slowed before he fell and injured himself while answering: "Yes! That dragon we killed, it laid eggs in him. They're doing something to Isemaler… killing him!"

By the time he finished his explanation, Hiccup finished his climb. He rushed over to the bed. Jack did not look good. The Guardian clearly deteriorated during the night, and Hiccup started to mentally beat himself up for having lost so much time. The normal blueish-pink hue of his skin changed to a pallid, sickly white. The unusually brown hair appeared damp, as if Jack sweated in a fever. The lack of any movement save the slight rise and fall of the immortal's chest scared Hiccup the most. He did not need to be a physician to see how dire the elemental's condition turned for the worse. The Viking nearly stopped breathing himself.

"Why do you smell like puke?" Fishlegs asked from behind, and his joints audibly popped while he stretched.

"Later," Hiccup hissed. "Come here and help me. Mom!"

"Almost there," his mother's called back while Fishlegs walked forward.

"I'll explain it all later, but I need you to cut these things out of him, Fishlegs," Hiccup all but demanded while pulling the blanket from Jack's body.

"I… Hiccup… never with a person," Fishlegs muttered, his eyes growing huge in fear, and he backed up. He looked disheveled and rumpled, but he wore his small winged helmet.

"You have the best hands of anyone I know, and he'll die if you don't!"

Fishlegs' head swung back and forth, he held up his hands as if to defend himself, and continued to back away.

"Fishlegs, he needs you. I need you," Hiccup begged the clearly overwhelmed Viking.

"No," his friend whispered the word. "Never on a person."

"You can't make him, son," Valka gently said. "Even if you could, would his hands be of any use if he's scared?"

Panic began to grip Hiccup. Time did not favor them given the condition of Jack. Hiccup looked wildly about. A part of his mind, the part responsible for every crazy idea he ever had, told him he could do this himself if he could face a god. He stared at his own hands for a second, and then at his mother. Years of wrangling dragons and age made her fingers less dexterous. His own hands, also used to dragons and forging metal, seemed to lack the nimble appearance of Fishlegs. The one Viking he trusted and thought could do this now stood with his back firmly pressed against a wall.

"Put the stuff here," Hiccup said and pointed to a spot next to him with a hand that visibly shook.

While his mother set the items down, Hiccup abandoned the bottle he brought. He meant for the liquor to calm Fishlegs if he got too nervous. The absurdity of the idea appalled him. The Viking chief then steeled his own nerves. He peeled away the blanket from the elemental man. The lines where the spokelsedrake lashed the flash turned an ugly red color at some point. Then he looked at the oblong, swollen welts after removing the bandages he put on the day before. Dried clotted goat's milk flaked and fell off. The dark rings around the buboes looked purplish. Hiccup willed himself to reach out and touch one.

"Unh," Jack moaned softly in delirium.

The bulge felt squishy and uneven under his finger. Hiccup grabbed one of the cloths his mother brought, dipped it in the pan of warm water, and proceeded to pull away the last of the bandages and wipe away the stray clotted goat's milk. Every time he touched a welt, Jack groaned. The fear he might hurt his immortal friend warred against the knowledge Jack would die if he did not. In some respects, Hiccup believed his empty stomach to be a hidden blessing since nothing more could be thrown up. He continued to clean the areas, carefully rolling Jack onto his uninfected right side, until the slender immortal rested between thighs. He would use his own legs to hold the body steady. It meant Jack's afflicted leg would come last. Hiccup reached down and picked up the knife, and the edge gleamed in the lamplight.

"Mom?" He quietly beseeched her.

She held up her hands and displayed the swollen knuckles and rough skin. Valka showed her son a preview of his own hands in the future. The young man accepted what she wordlessly said and he already knew. He returned his focus to the supine figure he cradled.

"This is going to hurt, Jack," Hiccup whispered. "I'm s-sorry, but it has to be d-done."

Hiccup reached deep down into himself to find the will to cut into the elemental man. Thoughts of Lord of Winter and what he said to the god arched through his brain. Then Hiccup remembered the courage of Toothless who flew them home when the dragon near nothing left to give. The blade lowered and sliced along the top of one of the welts.

Jack's scream reverberated through the house. Hiccup dropped the knife in both fear and shock. When the Guardian started to weakly thrash his legs, Valka gingerly climbed onto the bed and held them down. Jack's left arm flailed around.

"Fishlegs, h-hold h-his arm!" Hiccup stuttered the order.

Surprisingly, Fishlegs quickly responded. His weight made the bed creak, but he his powerful arm held fast to the much thinner one of the elemental young man. The two young Viking men glanced at one another.

"Cut along the side or top like you're opening a clam," Fishlegs suggested in a barely audible voice.

Despite the new instruction, Hiccup needed to contend with his first cut. When he looked, he did not know what to make of the situation. Firstly, he saw no blood. Secondly, a mostly transparent liquid oozed from the opening. Thirdly, the gray tip of something protruded from the incision. Hiccup willed himself into action while his emotions shut down. He found a calm space within his mind, one devoid of any connection to the being held between his legs. Tears raced down face, and he wondered why.

"Hold him,'' Hiccup said in a steady voice while retrieving the knife.

Using the tip of the blade, he slipped it under the gray nub poking out from the slice, and pried upward. Jack howled in pain, but Hiccup persisted. In a scant few seconds a miniature version of the spokelsedrake edged out, only half the size of Hiccup's thumb. It twisted and writhed, fighting against the exposure. Tiny bursts of purple light came from its head, and the little worms of lighting lashed outward.

"Hiccup, in here," Valka said, and held a bowl out.

Hiccup stabbed the creature with his knife, impaling it on the end. A small squeak escaped it. The Viking transferred the small embryonic dragon to the bowl and scraped it off the knife. Hiccup then grabbed a clean cloth, dipped it in water, and gently pressed against the now vacant welt. Jack grunted in agony. Something both freezing and hot touched the finger on Hiccup's right hand, and he jerked it away. The cloth hung from the wound on Jack's back. The Viking looked at the spot on his digit. Two dots of pearly white flesh appeared on his finger, and it burned. He wondered if residue from the spokelsedrake could be acidic, but that question remained for another time. Hiccup focused on another welt.

Using the technique Fishlegs suggested, Hiccup cut along the base of the next lump. Once more, Jack issued a terrible yell. Hiccup ignored it. More mostly transparent fluid seeped from the opening. The blade between Hiccup's fingers suddenly felt like it turned into an icicle. Wisps of cold vapors rose from it. He lifted the blade and examined it. He touched the freezing cold metal. Crystals of fluid formed along the surface of the blade that cut into Jack. Like a puzzle coming together, it started to make sense.

"His blood… like liquid… ice, but colder," Hiccup told the others.

Valka and Fishlegs gaped at both him and the blade. The heat from his hand changed the temperature of the blade and the crystals began to melt. He understood his flesh got frostbitten where the blood spattered on him. The operation, Hiccup knew with certainty, became increasingly dangerous for both of them. He tried his best to respect the new aspect while not letting it hinder him. Hiccup sank lower into the pool of eerie calm in his chest. He used the knife, holding onto the bone handle, to slip it into the new cut and extricate the offending creature. Like its brethren, it wiggled and squealed while puffing out miniscule bursts of lighting. Jack wailed again, but Hiccup held him still with his legs. The elemental exhibited very little strength.

"Two," he pointlessly announced while depositing the developing dragon in the bowl.

Hiccup tried to work at a fast yet careful pace on the next. It resulted in more frostbite on his skin. The knife blade turned into a tool of purely frozen metal. It became obvious the procedure negatively affected Jack. His screams of pain became less voluble and his struggles weaker. One by one he moved along removing the invasive beasts from his friend. When the seventh and final spokelsedrake on his torso got cut out, Jack hardly moved. He mumbled the occasional incoherent word. Hiccup carefully ripped pieces of cloth from one of the sheets his mother brought, and placed it over it each wound. It froze into place when it came into contact with Jack's strange, translucent blood.

"I d-don't th-think there's a-anymore here," Hiccup stuttered from the tension while looking over the slender expanse of Jack's back and side, noting the heavily marred condition.

"He's so thin," Fishlegs said as if he observed a new type of dragon. "I never realized it."

In truth, it never dawned on Hiccup, either, or his mother by her expression. Yet inside that nearly insubstantial form resided a strength none could deny. Jack lay rapidly panting. Hiccup never wondered why a being such as Jack even needed to breathe, but the respiration rate became telling. It became a worrisome marker.

"What about his leg?" Fishlegs inquired after the rest period.

"Yeah, yeah," Hiccup said and looked to his mother.

Valka removed herself from over his legs. Together they examined the left one that bore the lash marks. They could only see two welts, and these pulsed unlike the others. Hiccup could not begin to formulate an idea as to what could be happening, but he knew enough to know it could not be good. He picked up his friend, who seemed feather-light, and moved Jack's body into position. He made certain to keep Jack on his unaffected side. Hiccup, with the knife in hand that still wafted frozen vapors, crawled down to the infected limb.

"Fishlegs, hold his legs," he ordered. "Mom, make sure he doesn't roll over."

His mother and fellow dragon rider exchanged spots. Fishlegs' beefy hands easily wrapped around Jack's ankles like manacles. The bed slightly jostled as Valka took her position. Once Jack seemed secure, Hiccup readied himself. His hands trembled again.

"Forgive me for this pain," he whispered to the elemental.

Hiccup cut along the first welt located almost dead center in the calf. The lump squirmed as ice blood flowed out and Hiccup jerked the knife away. Jack hardly even mumbled a complaint. Once the trickle ended, he slipped the blade into the incision, pushed down on the handle so the blade angled upward, and began the extraction process. The nascent spokelsedrake wildly writhed as it slipped free. Again, tiny bursts of purple light surrounded the head area. Violet little tendrils tried to reach back into the opening. Hiccup flipped the creature out and it landed on the bed with a soft, wet splat. He stabbed with the knife, it squeaked, and then he dumped it into the bowl.

"Last one," Hiccup heaved out the words.

First he covered over the newest cut in the strange Guardian flesh, and the square of cloth froze to the wound. Then using a now practiced hand, he went about removing the last of the dragon embryos. When Hiccup sliced into the mound, Jack never flinched. He used the sure procedure, and the creature slipped free. A slight rush of air escaped the immortal, but he otherwise did nothing else. Hiccup killed the little monstrous beast and added it to the bowl of its dead kin. Finally, a bandage got placed over the wound. Like the others, it froze into place.

"I could never have done what you did," Fishlegs conceded and sounded ashamed.

Hiccup glanced at his friend. Twin tears streaked down the round face, accompanied by an expression that appeared mixed fear, humiliation, and regret. He wanted to tell Fishlegs that it would be all right, but the words got stuck in his throat.

"Hiccup?" His mother quietly said his name.

The young Viking chief twisted his head around. Valka looked grave, and that alarmed Hiccup. He maneuvered until he faced her. She looked down at Jack. The immortal lay motionless while his breathing came in a series of quick gasps. Hiccup got up and crawled toward her. Without having to be asked, Valka started to move out the way. Son and mother exchange places. He sat with Jack between his legs cradling the brown-haired head, and the Viking missed the white strands. A sheen of warm sweat covered every exposed surface of the pale flesh.

"Jack?" Hiccup whispered the name

Jack's mouth twitched. Hiccup moved his head down and waited. He heard a faint shushing noise. Hiccup leaned further in.

"Toothless?" Jack's barely audible voice inquired.

"No, it's me: Hiccup," the Viking answered.

"Hiccup?"

"Yes, it's me, Jack."

"Is… is it cold… outside?"

"Yes, freezing."

"Good," Jack breathed out the word.

Hiccup felt the head and neck he held relax. It brought him a sense of relief to know his friend no longer fought to stave off the effects of the spokelsedrake. He wiped damp hair from the damp forehead and gazed at the features of the immortal. Jack looked at peace, as though he rested from an unimaginable battle. Hiccup thought it one of the single most beautiful faces he ever encountered because he knew the spirit that resided within it. Try as he might, he could not remember the song Jack sang the night his world tore itself apart. It seemed appropriate for the moment.

"Rest, Jack. I'll watch over you. I'll keep you safe," the young man, Viking, said and promised.

Overcome by the ordeals of the day, Hiccup leaned closer and kissed Jack on the forehead. He knew he loved the young Guardian in near totality. Privately, the Viking vowed he would reveal his heart Jack regardless of the outcome. Keeping it inside threatened to sunder him.

"The ship sails into empty bay, where longing hearts await," Hiccup began to sing an old song his father used to sing to him as a boy when he felt frightened. "The sun brings another day, and casts light upon the fate. By axe and shield, sword and spear, to see who rides the deck, and…"

"Hiccup!" Valka interrupted him.

He sat more upright, raised his head, and glanced at her. Her green eyes bore into his, and then she shifted them downward. Hiccup followed her line of sight. Jack lay with his face resting against the Viking's thigh, against the coarse weave of his outer riding pants. The serenity in the Guardian's visage seemed a balm. Hiccup at last allowed himself to smile.

"No, son…" his mother gasped and she choked off the words.

He heard Fishlegs gulp and then wheeze, a sure sign something went amiss.

Hiccup peered at her. Tears welled up and spilled over her eyelids. Hiccup frowned. Her line of sight focused on Jack once again as she slowly raised a hand to her mouth. He looked another time at the now seeming young human slumbering in his lap. The Viking watched. And watched. Then he noticed it. Fear gripped his stomach and twisted it into a hard knot. Carefully, he nudged the prone form.

"Jack?" He called out the name.

The expression on his immortal friend's face did not change while the body rocked a little and came to rest. Hiccup, new panic racing through his mind, shook Jack again. Nothing changed. He stared at the thin chest. The Viking tried to will it to rise and fall. It remained motionless the longer he waited.

"No," he loudly said the word. "No, no! Jack… merciful Odin, no!"

Hiccup scooped the now frail seeming body into his hands and arms. He met no resistance. The weight, thought light, felt leaden. He squeezed Jack to him and prayed to feel a heartbeat. The world in his arms stayed silent.

"No! No! It's not fair!" Hiccup yelled and aimed his face upward. "We did what you said! He can't die! You can take him. NO!"

The Viking clasped harder to the still form. He started to sob as the reality took hold. A pain as mighty as the one he experienced when his father died ripped through Hiccup. Anger and resentment clawed at his guts. Behind that came a sorrow he thought he would never face again. Like a dark void, it threatened to consume him whole.

"Please, no. Gods, no, no… please. Not this one. I beg you… I beg you… I never got to tell him… please," the young man, Viking or no, cried out to any who would listen. "Anything… me… please… I need him."

Hiccup broke. Grief took over. He slowly collapsed with Jack still in his arms. All he did for the past day meant nothing. His efforts did not change the course of events. Try as he might, death came for another he loved. His mind filled with the words of Jack describing the Breathless One. Against his will, Hiccup understood the powerlessness the Guardian felt that day. He slid down and curled around the lifeless form of the Guardian. Hiccup buried his face into the cool skin. Anguish so complete it silenced his voice consumed him. His body convulsed.

"Hiccup," he heard his mother say from a long way off, but she could not reach him.

Above all, the young Viking man knew he loved. He knew it because he felt it dying in his breast, and it turned the world into a horrendous, ugly place. Any sense of fairness or justice got mocked. Hiccup could draw up a list of those who lives were less valuable than Jack's. His father tried to teach him to see the inherent worth in every life, his profound sadness told him one life should have been elevated above all others. Not only did Hiccup think he failed, but the world and all the immortal powers it held failed as well. The protector of children lay dead. The Spirit of Fun lay dead. A true Guardian lay dead. Jack Frost, Isemaler to the people of Halla, lay dead. Love lay dead. Hiccup lay in a wasteland of death contained in a single form.

It seemed an eternity passed while the young Viking man struggled to find any lesson or value in the death of Jack Frost. Mostly he tried to nurse a heart so grievously wounded he could not imagine surviving to the end of the day. He heard voices, those of his mother, Fishlegs, and Gobber, but he could not hear the words. Hands touched him he could barely feel. They tried to wrest the body from him, and Hiccup refused to yield. Finally, they simply allowed him to be with his misery. It seemed his only friend and true companion in life. In his mind, sometimes in words, Hiccup begged Jack to forgive him his failure.

An hour after the last attempt to take Jack's remains, a weight came to bear on his hips. It did nothing more than lay on him. Soon an earthy, musky scent mixed with the last lingering odor of vomit. Then he heard a long, weary sigh that spoke to his torments and travails. By sheer instinct Hiccup freed his left arm, swung it around, and laid a hand on the tough yet supple hide of a dragon. The Viking felt his fingers wrap around one of the fleshy head spikes of the beast. Toothless let out with a slow murmur that sounded to Hiccup like forgotten comfort, faith, love, and trust. Without realizing what his actions, Hiccup released Jack's lifeless form, rolled over, and wrapped himself around Toothless' head. The dragon rumbled again.

"Toothless," Hiccup said in a ragged, thick voice. "I can't… do this… anymore."

The Viking cried anew. He clung to his best friend. The warmth of Toothless contrasted sharply with the coolness of Jack's corpse. Hiccup wept. An old, familiar habit took over. He unwound from Toothless, slid off the edge of the bed, and snaked his arms around the dragon's neck. Toothless adjusted his position so he lay on the floor, taking his rider with him, and coiled around his best friend. An ebony wing slowly extended and gently covered over the human. Hiccup became cocooned in the protective presence of the one thing he knew he still loved above even his own life. In the envelope of a creature chance brought to him, Hiccup let his heart bleed as he pressed himself closure to the reassuring body of the dragon.

Hiccup drifted in and out of consciousness, sometimes sleeping, and sometimes wandering the featureless void of his now barren mind. He felt the bed jostle. He heard talking. He remained inert and unmoved by any of it. The Viking planned to never move again and remain safely ensconced in the wings of his dragon. Nature presented a compelling argument even his languishing heart respected. Quite simply, Hiccup needed to go to the bathroom and relieve himself. Against his wishes to lay there and spend an empty life next to his best friend, he began to extricate himself.

Toothless gradually complied and released his human friend. When Hiccup sat up, the dragon looked him right in the eye with one his outsized orbs. Within the iris colored like a field in springtime, Hiccup saw the utter concern and love of Toothless. He threw his arms around the neck again and squeezed.

"I won't leave you, bud," he promised through his fractured heart. Emotions surged and swelled in him of such a complex variety it left Hiccup speechless. They stayed together like that for a moment.

Hiccup stood, and Toothless moved over to his nest, scorched the already scorched surface, and lay down in a way where he could watch every movement of Hiccup. The Viking stood and stretched cramp muscles. He stripped out of the last his befouled riding gear. Several places on his right hand stung, and he looked down at the areas where he got frostbite. Blisters rose where he got spattered with Jack's unusual blood. He turned and looked at his bed.

It did not surprise Hiccup to see both his blanket and Jack's body missing. It made him angry, but he understood people thought they did the right thing by removing the corpse. Numbness settled over him when he realized Jack's body now lay in cave with the others who died during the Berk civil war waiting burial in the spring. The irony that Jack's corpse would soon be frozen solid did not escape him, but he found no humor in it. He wrapped a bathing sheet around his body. Slowly, he walked toward the stairs.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


	12. Chapter 12

**Winter Comes to Berk: Chapter Twelve**

by D. O'Shae

Three familiar faces sat around the table and watched him approach. They looked at him with a sadness bordering on a pity that galled Hiccup. He looked away while he tried to pass through the dining area and the galley to get to the bathroom. His mother's hand reached out and snagged his free left arm. Hiccup paused, felt her squeeze, and then release him. He continued to his destination.

An hour later he emerged clean and empty in more ways than one, and stared at the table now laden with food. His stomach gurgled and seized at the sight. Despite the needs of his body, Hiccup felt no desire to eat. He began to walk past them.

"It may not seem like it, lad, but ye'll get over this," Gobber said in his normal voice.

"What if I don't know how… or if I don't want to?" He spat without looking at his mentor.

"Living your life for misery and pain over what can't be undone is no way to live, Hiccup," the man rejoined.

Hiccup spun around, furiously enraged, and snapped: "What is there to live for when everything I try to do to make things right never, ever works and all I'm left with is… death?"

Fishlegs visibly recoiled. His mother appeared shocked. Gobber coolly met his burning gaze.

"Then what are ye going to do?"

The young man wrapped only in a drying sheet instantly made up his mind and replied: "I'm leaving Berk. I'm going to find a place where… where I don't have to remember any of this. I'm done with people I love dying no matter how hard I try to save them. I can't do it anymore."

"Ye know what they say about running…"

"I don't give a damn about what anyone says, Gobber! Not you… not the gods… not anyone. All I get are empty promises and death!"

Finally, even Gobber looked shocked at his vehemence. He saw tears trickle down his mother's cheeks, and it incensed him. She who gave up Berk, her husband, and her child did not earn the right to pass that sort of judgment on him. He let his eyes slide away from her in disgust. Fishlegs appeared frightened, and Hiccup wanted to remind the fat Viking he passed on an opportunity to do any good for one who needed him as he lay dying. He turned from the trio and began to head for the stairs to his room. Packing to get away from Berk became his first priority.

When he started to climb the stairs, he heard the low murmur of conversation. Let them talk, Hiccup said to himself. None of them really helped in the long run. They all passed the responsibility to him in the end. Through his pain he saw their weakness, their inability to be effective when it mattered most, and their hollow words. Hiccup vowed to never be part of such weakness again. The two people whose strength he admired both died and he could do nothing to stop it. The young Viking man also saw his own weakness, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He put on some light clothing while his dragon watched.

"Tomorrow, Toothless, tomorrow," he said to his dragon while he began to empty the contents of his newly built dresser onto his bed.

A half an hour after he began to pack bags, he heard the front door open, people shuffle out, and then close. Ten minutes after that he heard the support joist holding the stairs creak. He looked over and saw his mother climb up while balancing a plate.

"I brought you some food, Hiccup. It's seems like a long while since you ate anything," she said and set it on the end of his bureau.

Hiccup did not thank her and said nothing.

"I can see you do intend to leave," she continued. "Where will you go?"

He shrugged. Not that many years before, he and his friends managed to make an outpost on their own. Hiccup believed he could make a small homestead for himself and Toothless. He folded some shirts and stuffed them into a sack. From the corner of his eye, he saw Toothless look from him to his mother and back again.

"It's not easy out there, but… if anyone can make, I think you can."

Hiccup continued to pack.

"I miss the sound of his laughter," Valka said and leaned against the wall. "I never heard laughter so clear… so full of spirit… hope."

Hiccup's entire body seized and he remained motionless.

"The children ask about him, when he's going to return. I don't know what to tell them."

"Tell them he's dead," Hiccup stated in a dry, tight voice. "Don't shield them from the truth."

"Maybe," Valka considered. "You know, I'm going to miss you, Hiccup. I'm going to miss what our relationship was turning into."

"Why? I didn't bother you when you left me as a baby, so it shouldn't bother you now. You've got a lot of practice!"

"Hiccup Horrendous…"

"Don't!" Hiccup yelled and spun around. "Just don't! You picked dragons over me and Dad. I get you felt you were doing something noble and important, but you made a choice. You chose that over us. So don't stand here and think you've got the moral high ground to tell me what I'm doing or saying is out of line. You don't get to do that!"

Valka looked as though she wanted to argue, but then she closed her mouth and nodded her head. After a few seconds, Hiccup returned to his packing. The silence in the room went beyond awkward. It took on a malignancy. The young man skipped folding clothes and just started jamming them into his packs.

"I know you loved him…"

"STOP!" He screamed while whirling around again.

Toothless let out with a roar. His mother appeared scared of him. He panted like he just run a long, grueling race.

"I… never got the chance to love him," Hiccup growled at her, his eyes burning with fury. "I never got the chance to tell him. He died without knowing… and don't tell me he knew! Everything that could've been is gone, Mom. Gone! Dead!"

He watched as her neck bobbed while she swallowed.

"You… you walked away from love when you had it. Dad loved you so much… always loved you and forgave you when he found you. All I have is a dead body… a body of someone who shouldn't have been able to die… but our world killed him! Just like it kills everything!"

Tears edged out of her eyes while she said: "Is this all you're going to live for, Hiccup: this anger and bitterness?"

"What else is left for me?" He said in a dull but dangerous tone.

Mother stared at son for ten seconds. Then she cast her eyes away, turned, and headed down the stairs. Hiccup watched her leave with a heart seething a pain he could not describe. Everything around him smelled burned. He glared at the spot his mother just vacated, furious she found the nerve to try and lecture him. Hiccup returned to his packing. Little by little he cleared the contents of his room that survived the vandalism of the war. Four heavy packs lay at the foot of his bed. He thought about going down and washing out his riding gear, but he decided against. With more than one set in his possession, it could wait until he found a place to settle. He already decided where he would go. His first choice his mother and two others knew about, but many existed he never told them about. One in particular seemed just right. Winter would barely visit him there.

Hiccup ate the food his mother left a little while later. He sat at his empty desk studying his maps, avoiding thinking about the pain that always wanted to rear up and consume him, while the sky grew dark outside. Toothless went off at one point to find a meal for himself. Part of Hiccup worried he might be asking too much of dragon after the harrowing ordeal the day before. A single day's rest might not be enough for another extended flight. However, Hiccup plotted a route using some of the waystations he never divulged to the others. He would travel in stealth and in such a manner that no one from Berk would be able to follow. The Viking fully intended to leave everyone behind and, he prayed, some part of the gloom in his spirit. When Toothless returned looking pleased and satiated, the rider spent some time grooming and prepping the dragon.

"It's going to be a long trip, Toothless, but we'll do it in short jumps," he said while oiling the hide with a salve that would soak in and not leave it greasy.

Toothless crooned in delight at the ministrations. Spending time caring for his best friend gave him a brief respite from the sadness filling him. Seeing Toothless happy, he decided, would become his life's goal. He intended to find the place where night furies lived. While he might choose to live alone, that did not mean Toothless needed to be consigned to the same fate. The plan congealed in his head, and Hiccup believed it logical and workable. Darkness covered Berk, and he felt at home in it. Several times throughout the evening he heard his mother moving around down in the lower half of the house, and he let her be as he tended to his dragon. He saw to Toothless' needs until lethargy overcame him.

"Bedtime, bud, and we start early in the morning," he told his dragon while stripping down to his undergarments and hunting around for another blanket that he ultimately dug out from one of his packs.

Hiccup extinguished the lights and crawled into bed. He saw light down in the lower part of the house, but years of ignoring it allowed him to drift into slumber. He longed for the quiet certainty of unconsciousness. Sleep did come, but even in his unconscious state he felt ill at ease. He could sense a darkness, darker than a moonless midnight sky covered over with black clouds, looming in the distance. It seemed to be watching him. It gave off a feeling of cold the Viking suspected the late Guardian would not like. It sucked at the soul. Hiccup became deeply troubled.

The air appeared to shift around his slumbering mind.

"Thou must tell him to pass, mortal," a voice in his dream said. "Balance in this world cannot be restored until he does."

Hiccup knew the comments to be directed at him, but sleep seemed more fitting.

"Dost thou not heed what I tell thee?"

"Leave me alone," Hiccup grumbled.

"Young mortal, thou saw to his needs at the end, and now thou must beseech him to complete the journey," the voice angrily told him.

Hiccup sat up in bed. He recognized the voice. He glanced around and noticed his bedroom walls no longer stood around him. Even Toothless' nest went missing. The panic rising in him warred with the knowledge he dreamed and simply became lucid. His native curiosity, however, betrayed him.

"Figure it out for yourself," he grumbled at the strange night around him. Overhead pinpricks of starlight twinkled.

"'Tis merely a matter of thou giving him command, and thou needs make haste."

"No."

In the distance he saw a figure take shape and walk toward him. It looked like an older human man, but the coloration seemed all wrong. It vacillated from grays and whites to greenish-yellows and blacks. The humanoid form possessed arms and legs, but most other features remained indistinct. All save the face. Hiccup saw the face clearly on a man who easily stood twenty feet tall and stared down at him. The face appeared as a composite of every elder Hiccup ever knew, both male and female. Hair that looked wavy, although closer examination showed it nothing more than varied bumps and lumps with mixed coloration, framed a face that looked anywhere from forty to one hundred years old. Yet the eyes held Hiccups attention the most. They situated themselves a little too far apart beside the aquiline nose. The looked like the bottom of storm clouds: a variant of black that appeared simultaneously hostile and soft.

"Lord of Winter," Hiccup slowly said the name.

"Verily, and thou hast duty to this world to set aright this problem it now faces," the unthinkably large man told him.

"It's not my problem," he replied and lay down on the bed.

"Oh, nay? This hast thy handiwork all about it, Hiccup of the Hooligans. Thou interfered with the natural progress of Jack Frost, and now he refuses to obey injunctions rightly given to him!"

"Jack is dead. Leave me alone. This is just a dream."

"This is no dream!" Thursar H'rim spoke in a voice that shook the foundations of the world.

Hiccup sat upright, but not from fear. Grief and sorrow left no room to be afraid. Moreover, he faced this one being before. Hiccup no longer respected Lord of Winter.

"Your Isemaler passed from your mortal world, but he refuses to pass for this demesne. He resists the call of the Breathless One. It upsets the tides of nature. He must pass, and thou must urge him to do this!" Lord of Winter told him in an authoritarian tone.

"No," Hiccup refused again.

Clouds built in the sky, winds whipped up, and the temperature dropped as if Hiccup fell through the ice into a frozen river. The immortal's anger thrashed all around him, and yet Hiccup found it impotent. It no longer mattered to him who got angry. Furthermore, if Jack truly served as the source of the being's vexation, then it brought him a humorless sense of joy.

"If you're so powerful, then you get him to do it," the Viking said while lying down again, and wrapping the blanket over his shoulders, facing away from the immortal.

"Thou must do as bid lest I bring a chill so cold none of thy family or friends will ever be free of it. They will be as statues of ice!"

"Go ahead. I can't stop you either way. Freeze me while you're at it."

"And thy winged beast?"

That thought chilled Hiccup, but he did not fall for what he perceived as a trick.

"Why would a dragon make any difference to you if you're willing to kill hundreds of people?" Hiccup asked, bitterness overflowing in each word. "Just get it over with."

The winds stopped. The temperature normalized. A slow roll of thunder rumbled overhead.

"Thou hast no conception of the fate that will befall this world," Thursar H'rim said in a more normal tone. "The Breathless One's will focus on your Jack Frost to the exclusion of all others. It is beyond thy imaginings to understand what occurs when death halts. Thou hast no nightmares of its sort."

"Fine," Hiccup whispered.

"Thou art a fool among fools, mortal!"

"Leave him be, Thursar," a woman's voice the size of all the world said.

"Mȧne?" Lord of Winter exclaimed the word in total surprise.

"I've not used that mantle since you brought the first time of ice."

"And you went missing from the sky!"

"No, child, you just did not how to look for me."

"You abandoned us!"

It sounded like an infinite chuckle to Hiccup, but even that could not explain what he heard.

"Thursar, you looked upon me countless time during your winter nights. I kept vigil on the world as ribbons of color," the endless female voice said.

"Northern lights," Hiccup whispered. "Noro, the Sky Dancer!"

"So it is, little Hiccup. I am Noro to you now, my dear winter," she said and he felt her smile.

"That was you?" Thursar grumbled. "All this time when we needed your guidance…"

"You and all the others quickly grew beyond my guidance, Bodach Geamhradh."

Hiccup felt the world shift around him, as though reality itself became altered. Suddenly he knew fear. Noro the Sky Dancer unleashed something even more powerful than Lord of Winter, yet nothing seemed harmed. He hid under his blanket.

"My lady," Thursar H'rim replied in obeisance.

"And it is true Aita becomes fixated on this one defiant creature, but this mortal is not the answer you seek."

"My Lady Noro, this mortal enraptured a tunglskin sveinstaul not of our realm. If we seek to break the insolent will…"

"Are you so old, Thursar, that you've forgotten passion?" Noro the Sky Dancer asked and again a chuckle the size of the ocean rippled through Hiccup. "There is only one who can tame this child."

The Viking became acutely aware the beings around him were gods in their own manner to one such as himself. The air tingled with power the likes of which Hiccup could never know and could never understand. He lay huddled against himself.

"Elada, I need your counsel," Noro spoke, and her words felt like endless time.

"My Lady?" Thursar H'rim said in what sounded like shock.

A bright, silvery light appeared and pierced even the blanket, and the air grew dense with even more energy. Hiccup became doubly nervous. This so exceeded his imagination he did not know what to fear, and even that part of his mind threatened to shut down. He lay quietly hoping to be ignored.

"Beautiful Noro," a light tenor voice said, and it tinkled like bells made of the purest, thinnest metal.

"Dear Elada," Noro the Sky Dance addressed the new entity.

"Sire," Thursar H'rim mumbled, and Hiccup got the impression Lord of Winter bowed.

Hiccup dared not look, and the intense light continued to shine. He feared he would go blind if he saw it. A small sliver of his brain attempted to convince him a dream took shape around him, but Hiccup knew better.

"Dear Elada, I'm afraid one of your children met his end on this world and now refuses to listen to the song. He draws too much of the attention of Aita," Noro explained to the other great being.

"My Jack Frost perished here? How is this possible?" The airy voice of Elada questioned.

"In my folly long ago I created beasts that can feast on my primal children, but only as an annoyance. I meant to keep them aware of what is around them. To one such as your child, so limited in ability and removed from his home, it proved lethal to his form," Noro told Elada. "And now he will not obey Aita."

"Sweet Jack," Elada said and Hiccup felt the warmth of an affection that sought to ease his sorrow. "Doing ever as I expected of him. Can you see why I would grant him this life?"

"He entertains, and his love of the mortal children impresses, Elada. You chose well in that one, but his life expired. He now consumes the thoughts of Aita to the woe of all others. Death cannot pause, and you know this."

"Then we must have words with Aita," Elada replied.

"Perhaps we should," Noro agreed.

Then Elada said: "Aita, we beg your attention and wisdom. Come forward so we may share a time together."

A sound exists that encapsulates silence. It exists in a way that mortal ears cannot perceive or the mortal mind can comprehend. When it arrived, Hiccup could not even hear his own thoughts. It seemed his existence became lost in the eternal completeness of the silence. It became so immense he did not even know how to be afraid of it.

"Aita," Elada, Noro, and Thursar H'rim said in reverent unison.

"We welcome you," Noro added.

"You honor us," Elada stated.

Thursar H'rim said nothing.

The silence took on a palpable form even Hiccup could sense under his blanket. It changed shape, and the Viking got an inkling of an idea so pure he barely understood it.

"Yes, he resists," Elada replied to odd form of communication. "It is his nature, Aita. He did not come here of his own choosing, and now I think he seeks to return home."

Reality took on a varied configuration, and Hiccup grew confused.

"Who could have anticipated that interaction?" Noro inquired. "Will given freedom makes for unintended results."

"And my Jack chose his path unlike any of my other children," Elada commented to the concept that swirled around them.

Hiccup felt his mind changing again as the fabric of nature assumed a new form.

"Can you claim a life such as his when it did not originate in this realm? Does this not violate even your few rules?"

Hiccup could not fathom what Elada meant, yet it seemed a potent argument. Reality transmogrified again, yet he felt a threat in the new shape.

"You cannot blame the mortal. Chance allowed them to meet. That they would feel as they do toward one another is no one's making but their own," Noro replied.

Hiccup felt heart break anew. A god confirmed what he only dared hope just days ago. It fueled the reason why he confronted Lord of Winter. Everything he did he would do again even knowing it still might not save Jack's life.

"And I accept your complaint Jack may not have experienced enough mortal life, but what he gave so willingly… letting him pass would've been the greater tragedy, and I think you agree," Elada countered.

Tears slid out of his eyes as he relived again the pain of Jack's death. He barely noticed when the world warped around him.

"No own knows why they can feel so strongly. In my realm it becomes toxic at times," Elada answered the living abstraction.

"But it is part of their marvel, is it not? Would you have it any other way, Aita?" Noro challenged.

Despite being wrapped in his broken dreams and grief, the Viking sensed the change in everything as a concept unknowable to him emerged. He felt the bed jostle and worried he drew too much attention with his unchecked emotions. Then the edge of his blanket jerked. Something pulled it out of his grip. The bright, silver light seeped in, blinding him for a moment when a shadow blocked it. After his eyes adjusted, Hiccup found himself looking into a pair of ice-blue eyes, a face of bluish-pink skin framed by white hair, and ears that stuck out on each side.

"Hello, Hiccup," Jack said and smiled, and his teeth gleamed as white as new snow.

Hiccup could not breathe. His mind became so chaotic landing on a single thought became impossible. This dream, he started to think, turned into a nightmare. He believed his eyes lied to him and his sanity finally snapped. He opened his mouth, but he found no words to speak.

"I missed you, and I'm sorry if I worried you, and it's why I couldn't leave," Jack told him.

"J-J-Jack?" Hiccup stuttered name.

"I couldn't listen to the Breathless One because I had to talk to you."

Hiccup soundlessly nodded and not because he understood what happened: he simply acknowledged Jack spoke to him. It all seemed an impossibility to him. He knew Jack to be dead. He held his corpse in his arms. He heard the immortals confess to Jack's death.

"What you did… you faced Thursar for me, you and Toothless, when it could've killed both of you. Then what you went through pulling those things out of me. I couldn't leave knowing you did that and what it meant to me without saying something to you. I think it's why I can't hear the Breathless One properly. I keep hearing something else."

"What?" Hiccup managed to say a single word.

"I keep hearing… not hearing, not really, but it's like a sound… sort of. It's louder than what the Breathless One says to me. I think you're the source of it, Hiccup. So, I have to ask you a question so I can understand it," Jack tried to explain, and grinned through the entire mangled explanation.

"Okay," the Viking numbly agreed.

"Do you love me?"

Hiccup nodded.

"Okay. Good, because, ah, I figured out I love you, too, Hiccup. I thought you might want to know that."

As if he sat atop Toothless, Hiccup shot out from under the blanket, tackling the elemental while sliding across the sheets. They rolled off the bed and onto what could only be called the ground. Jack laughed, a pure, clean sound as any Hiccup ever heard. The Viking held the elemental's face in his hands to be certain of the reality of it. Whether he slid into insanity or not, Hiccup want to seize the moment and accept it as real. His green eyes gazed into the blue ones waiting for them to disappear. When they stayed focused on him for three heartbeats, he leaned forward and kissed the forehead. Cool skin, the skin of a winter elemental, met his lips. Tears raced down Hiccup's cheeks and he prayed he would remain that insane forever. Fear and joy battled within his body from head to toe.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere, Hiccup," Jack told him with a chuckle.

"How?" Hiccup whispered and his nerves jangled.

Jack looked to the side, and Hiccup followed his line of sight. He saw the ridiculously tall Lord of Winter. Next to him stood a woman, round of breast and hip, skin as dark as a roasted walnut, dressed in a gauzy film of a dress. The fabric's colors shifted from green to blue to white with touches of red, yellow, and orange. Her eyes blazed an indescribable green. No doubt, the Viking thought, he gazed at Noro the Sky Dancer. Beside her a figure stood that radiated a simple silver-white light. No features save for what looked like arms, legs, and a head could be seen. Since Hiccup guessed Noro and knew Thursar H'rim, he surmised it to be the one called Elada.

Across from the three he saw a fourth figure. The more Hiccup stared at it, the more he became uncertain and more than bit frightened. One second it assumed the form of a small girl, then a middle aged man, and then an elderly man only to shift to a young woman who grew ancient in less time than it took a heart to beat. It changed on and on and on without any seeming end. It never held the same appearance for longer than a second, yet each looked as individual and distinct as if real. Hiccup looked to Jack with questions in his eyes.

"That is Aita, the Breathless One of this demesne," Jack said with considerable awe. "Since I would not go into the void, Aita brought me here. The Man in the Moon gave me a body, and Lord of Winter allowed me to tap into his power again."

"No, child of Elada," Noro the Sky Dancer said. "You take your power directly from Elada. He is your maker and your source."

Jack stood and faced Elada, twirling his crook in his left hand that appeared from nowhere, he bowed and said: "Thank you, Father Moon."

The Man in the Moon, shining with heatless light, tilted his head toward Jack. Hiccup got up as well, hanging onto Jack's arm, and staring at the assembled beings. He figured he went completely batty or he would never live to talk about the unusual meeting. He glanced from figure to figure, although he did not like to look at Aita. Hiccup saw Jack wore his usual leather britches, the strange sky-blue hooded shirt with finely detailed designs made of frost and ice, and completely shoeless. The important part, in the Viking's estimation, came in the sense that Jack gave every impression of being alive and real.

Hiccup suddenly felt as if he moved a thousand miles while standing still and got pulled in every conceivable direction without being touched. He nearly stumbled save that Jack kept stationary. Four faces angled toward Aita.

"It no longer resides in the cave. Noro gave me leave to bring it here, Aita," Elada answered a question. "It is attuned to him."

"It is not natural to this world although it accepts it now, and none can predict what could or would be done with it," Noro stated.

The world turned inside out and back again. The mortal Viking thought he would get sick from the sensation, especially the one inside his head. It spun as if on a child's string toy.

"I will not force him," Elada bluntly said and his light pulsed once. "In my realm he is still considered alive. If your song cannot compel him, then neither shall I. I have no need of a mind slave, Aita: I need a free thinking Guardian, for therein is found his real strength."

The Breathless One, constantly shifting appearance at a dizzying pace, turned and faced Jack. Hiccup noticed with horror the eyes were missing, and what sat in the place of the orbs could only be called nothing. Hiccup felt the gaze pulling at him, so he shut his eyes. Then he felt it.

 _Come_.

Hiccup screamed and dropped to his knees. He wrapped his arms around his head hoping he did so fast enough to keep his skull from splitting open. It felt like something inflated his brain to one hundred times its normal size. It tried to contain a concept so vast the world could barely hold onto it. He felt Jack crouch down next to him and place a protective arm across his shoulders. The elemental young man pointed his staff at Aita as if to ward it off.

"No," Jack flatly refused. "Do that again to him and I will spend eternity refusing you!"

Reality spun and turned in its head, but nothing change position.

"Maybe you don't know what gratitude is, Aita, but I owe this mortal so much. When I had no one else in this realm, he cared for me. I never asked. As I lay dying, he risked his life… that is more important to mortals than to us, and he did it without a pause," Jack said with remarkable calm and steel in his voice. "Hiccup has claims on my life before you."

"Do you understand what you say?" Elada asked, but it did not hold any reproof.

"This is a mighty onus," Noro warned.

"I do. You said you gave me a will to make my own decisions, Father Moon," Jack replied.

"I did, child," the Man in the Moon answered.

"But I didn't choose this," he said while reaching down to take hold of Hiccup's hand. "I didn't choose to feel what I feel for this man. It happened, and I don't know why, but I won't give it up!"

"Thou hast been touched by the Flesh Hungerer," Thursar H'rim said after an incredibly long silence.

"That does not answer his emotions," Noro the Sky Dancer remarked, her colors shimmered and changed.

Hiccup, twining his fingers with Jack's, sensed mountains building and then wearing away in an instant as oceans filled and dried out. It set his eyes out of focus.

"Perhaps he does have too mortal of a heart," Elada stated, but again without judgment. "I do not see this as a flaw, Aita. Perhaps it is what allowed him to define his own sense of purpose."

Reality then folded in on itself as if made of dough and a celestial baker kneaded it. Hiccup felt oddly contorted, but whole.

"Jack Frost, you created a dilemma, and I am curious to know how you see your way out of it," Noro inquired.

Jack stood and dragged Hiccup with him. The Guardian looked from immortal to immortal without any discernible trace of fear, something Hiccup greatly admired. The elemental also appeared perplexed. His eyebrows twitched and drew together. Hiccup heard him sigh and, while unintended, it gave the impression this might be routine for the Spirit of Fun.

"What dilemma?" Jack Frost asked.

"Aita needs to collect a life, and yours in particular since you expired in this realm. This cannot be denied, yet you refuse to heed the call. Aita cannot be owed a debt for eternity. This is the dilemma, my child," Elada explained.

"I would go with the Breathless One if…"

"No!" Hiccup sputtered and squeezed Jack's hand. "I want him to stay, but not for me. His duty is too important to… us mortals. You can't deny the children of my world or his the joy he brings in the winter."

"Verily," Thursar H'rim agreed, although it sounded grudging.

"Mortal, if he passes from this world, then he returns to the one of his creation," Elada said directly to Hiccup.

"That is a complication," Noro added her voice. "The mortal young of this world believe in your Jack Frost, Elada. They call him Isemaler. He is now part of this realm. How else could he perish here? It is part of what allows him to resist Aita. Their belief in him is his power, as it is in your demesne, and it grounds him here."

"The progeny of the mortals have taken to him," Thursar H'rim dryly noted, "oft before they note my work."

"It is the hallmark of a Guardian," Elada replied and the pleased tone in his voice could not be missed.

"But the young here do not face the same perils those in your realm, dear Elada. I could not come to make creatures as you wrought," Noro countered.

"Do not face..." Jack sputtered, but cut himself off.

"Speak, Jack," Elada commanded him after a few moments of silence.

"Before I got attacked by… what where those things?" The youngest of immortals inquired.

"Spokelsedrake," Hiccup and Thursar H'rim uttered in unison.

Hiccup saw Lord of Winter aim a small frown at him, and then he found Jack's hoodie to be much more interesting.

"Those things," Jack agreed and continued. "I went to Tykkstein… to visit the children, but I was too late. The volcano erupted and… wiped out all the people… including the children. Can you even think for a second what they must've felt? That… horror as the world turned against them… ate them alive?"

None of the immortals answered.

"You sit in your lofty places… maybe not Aita," the Spirit of Fun mumbled the last bit and nodded toward the Breathless One who, surprisingly, nodded in return. "You've never looked into the eyes of children who can't understand what's going on, what's happening to them, except that it's frightening and beyond their control. You don't know what it's like to be… mortal and to be that afraid. Mistress Noro..."

Noro the Sky Dancer inclined her head toward him. The black sky with the glowing motes of stars behind her added to the mystical aspect. Hiccup again wondered if he dreamed something fantastic, but could not think of any like it in his past. He accepted the moment as real. Moreover, he marveled at Jack's composure and willingness to stand up to the powerful beings. Jack Frost intrigued the Viking anew.

"To be alive is to always be in peril every moment of that life. It almost defines mortality. My sister…" Jack said and faltered a second. "All I wanted for her at the last moment was to not be afraid so she could do what she needed to do to stay alive… to face that peril for one more day."

A silence lingered.

"Do any of you understand that?" Jack begged.

"Through you, yes, my child," Elada stated and the words tinkled like crystal bells.

"Father, can you see now what Hiccup risked for me? Do you have any idea what it means to me… and why I could not hear Aita?"

Although the face held no discernible features and looking into it made his eyes water, Hiccup glanced up and could swear he saw an invisible smile in the brilliant light. He felt Jack's strong fingers dig into his hand, and he did the same.

"There is much to consider here," Noro murmured, although he soft voice would carry across every ocean on Halla.

Then shining Elada, shimmering Noro, and grim Aita faced one another. Thursar H'rim stood to one side, but appeared to listen. Hiccup wanted to ask Jack a question, but suddenly everything he thought twisted into soggy mud and slipped out of his grip. He blacked out while standing up. When Hiccup awoke after what felt like years, he found he slumped against Jack, who held him up.

"A life is owed to Aita," Elada said, and it sounded to Hiccup like he missed something. "That cannot be denied. Yet the life Aita wants is connected to one of my children who, for better or worse, formed a presence here. In doing so, Aita now tries to claim an immortal life, and that is not permissible unless Jack submits… and I hardly think he is willing at this juncture. Are we agreed on this?"

Aita and Noro nodded. Jack nodded. Thursar H'rim stayed motionless. Hiccup glanced about.

"Are we also agreed that Jack Frost shall live out a mortal life here in this demesne while also carrying out his calling, returning to my demesne on the full moon for one night during his life here to also see to his duty there?"

Once more all nodded save Lord of Winter and Hiccup. Hiccup sorted through the words to find the exact meaning.

"Before you expire here, my dear Jack, Noro will send to you one chosen to become Isemaler in your stead. You will share with this youngling all the secrets of your craft. You shall turn over your crook…"

Suddenly Jack pulled his staff in close to his body.

"One shall await your return home, Jack Frost," Elada gently told him. "But the one you have here is now attuned to this world as you have become attuned to it. It has needs to stay and remain with the new Isemaler. Are we agreed on this?"

Aita and Noro nodded, as did Jack who did so with less certainty.

"When you have satisfied the command, Jack, when you are an aged mortal, your time here will end. You will physically die in this realm. You will then submit to the call of Aita, heed the song, and pass out of this world to return to ours. Are we agreed on this?" Elada once again inquired.

"What about Hiccup? What happens to him?" Jack asked before any could make an answer to the Man in the Moon.

"What happens to the mortal Hiccup is what happens to all mortals: who can tell?" Noro answered with a small smile on her mouth, but it did not seem mocking. "We do not write the future, Jack Frost… save yours in a limited fashion. This Hiccup will live his life according to his dictates, needs, and will. What befalls him shall come from his actions and choices, as it does to every mortal."

"You ask for guarantees about his life, my child, and we can give none. We can only offer a mortal life to you because it is within our power and Aita agrees," Elada continued. "You are not one of them, dear Jack, although your heart remains very much with them. That is your gift and the source of your power. This is what you bring to me and why you must return. We offer this to you so as to spare your heart this time and allow it to grow."

Jack nodded his head.

"Then we are agreed?"

Aita, Noro, Jack, and Elada all nodded. Even Thursar H'rim nodded. Hiccup knew his vote did not count in the matter at hand.

Elada held out his right hand, and Noro grasped it. Elada held out his left hand, and Aita clasped it, although the hand repeatedly changed shape. The trio stepped forward. Hiccup wanted to step backward, but Jack did not move. He faced the advancing immortals.

"My child, all we said is now granted to you," the Man in the Moon told the Spirit of Fun. "Go and live a life unlike the one you have lived these past three hundred years. Remember your mortality, cling to it, and let it guide you. When you return to me in full, you will be so much more than you ever were."

"Thank you, Father Moon," Jack said in a quiet voice. "Thank you, Noro, and watch over me."

The young elemental man then turned to the Breathless One and said: "Thank you, Aita. When the time comes, I swear I will heed you and follow your song without any fight."

Uncharacteristically for the second time, Aita nodded its head. Hiccup felt a strange easing within his chest. The three greater immortals released their handhold with one another.

"Thursar H'rim, we'll be like brothers in the winter," Jack said and chuckled.

"Thou art an impudent upstart, Jack Frost who is Isemaler, and I welcome thee," Lord of Winter said and also tilted his head.

"And for you, Hiccup," Elada said and turned his head toward the Viking. "My thanks to you for guarding over my child, and seeing to his well being. Be released from your grief and know peace in your heart."

Hiccup nodded his head. The Man in the Moon then twisted his seeming face toward Noro, and she smiled. A silvery arm then rose up. A gleaming finger extended from the glowing hand. It touched Hiccup directly in the center of his forehead. A sensation like a cool wind on a summer day washed over him. He closed his eyes, and tension eased from his body. Hiccup felt Jack's hand in his, and he smiled.

"Hiccup!" A woman's voice yelled out his name and he heard something crash to the ground.

Hiccup sat bolt upright in his bed. He turned his head wildly about searching for the distress. He saw his mother staring wide-eyed at him. Then he felt a small commotion on his left, and Jack sat up.

"Please, Lady Valka, I'm trying to sleep," the Guardian said in a sleepy voice. "It was a long night."

Jack then flopped down back onto the bed and covered his brown-haired head with the blanket. Toothless rumbled from his nest. Hiccup grinned at the complaint of his best winged friend.

"Hiccup?" His mother hissed his name as a question.

"Yeah, it's really him, Mom," Hiccup replied and could not keep the joy out of his voice. "And it's a long story. I'll tell you about it at lunch."

Then he, too, lay back down. His left arm reached out for the reassuring presence of Jack. He pulled the thin young man close to him. Jack sighed. Hiccup fell back into the best sleep of his life.

Above the heads of the sleeping duo, the grumbling dragon, and the astonished woman, thunder rippled like glass chimes in a spring breeze.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.


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